FAIRY  GOLD 

POEMS 

BY 

KATHARINE  LEE  BATES 


NEW  YORK 

E.  P.  DUTTON  &  CO. 

681  FIFTH  AVENUE 
1916 


COPYRIGHT,  1916 

BY 
E.  P.  BUTTON   &   COMPANY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


Co 
KATHARINE  KEITH 

AND   TO  ALL  THE 

KATHARINES 

WHO   DO   ME   THE   HONOR 
TO    BEAR    MY   NAME 


357965 


CONTENTS 

PAGB 

FAIRY  GOLD:  A  PLAY  I 

POEMS  OF  CHRISTMAS 

CHRISTMAS  ISLAND           .         .         .         .  .81 

SANTA  CLAUS'  RIDDLE    .         .         .         .  .       85 

GOODY  SANTA  CLAUS      .         .         .         .  .       92 

SANTA'S  STOCKING  .         .        .         ...  .     104 

LOLITA'S  BETHLEHEM      .         .         .         <  .     107 

POEMS  OF  SUNSHINE 

SUNSHINE       .         .        ,        .         .         .         .     115 

A  SONG  OF  RICHES 120 

SONG  OF  THE  SUNSHINE  CLUB      ;  .         .         .121 

POEMS  OF  VACATION 

VACATION       . 125 

WIDE  AWAKE  AND  FAST  ASLEEP      .         .         .127 

THE  SUN  OUT  OF  TEMPER       .        .        .         .     129 

SOMEBODY  KNOWS  .»,-..         .         .132 

v 


VI  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

THE  RIVULET 133 

FAIR  WEATHER       .         .         .         .         .         .136 

NUTTING  SONG        .         .         .         .         .         .138 

PLUCKING  THE  GOOSE     .....     140 

A  WINTER  DAY 141 

OUT  TO  PLAY          ......     143 

THROUGH  THE  GOLDS  AND  THE  GREENS  OF  SPRING     147 

POEMS  OF  FLOWERS 

A  TULIP  TEA-PARTY 151 

DAFFYDOWNDILLIES          .         .         .         .         .153 

WITCHCRAFT  .         .         .         .         .         .         .     154 

THE  RAINBOW  PATH       .         .         .         .         .     155 

SANDALPHON'S  ROSEBUDS          .         .         .         .     157 

POEMS  OF  FUR  AND  FEATHERS 

GRANDSIRE  SQUIRREL  GRAY     ....  161 

LITTLE  SHADOWTAIL        .         .         .         .         .  165 

PETERKIN       .         .        '.         ,         .         .         .  167 

ROBIN'S  SECRET      ....         ...  169 

ON  A  RAMBLE        ...        .         .         .  171 

A  MUSIC-LESSON    .     /    ,        ^        t        t        .  173 

THE  BIRD  HOTEL  ......  174 


CONTENTS  Vii 

POEMS  OF  LITTLE  PEOPLE 

PAGE 

BABY  BETH    .......     179 

BABY'S  BAGGAGE     .         .         .         .         .         .180 

AT  RECESS 181 

THE  MEASURING  ROD 181 

THE  BARBERRY  BABY  .  .  .  .  .183 
HOME  FROM  SCHOOL  .  .  .  .  .184 
REBECCA  AND  ABIGAIL  .  .  .  .  .185 
LITTLE  TOM  A  BECKET  .  .  .  .  .189 

NONSENSE  VERSES 

HUDSON'S  CAT        .        .        ...  .193 

DON'T  You  SEA?    .         .         .        .  .195 

FIRST  NIGHT  IN  THE  COUNTRY        .        .  .197 

THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  LILY-PAD       .        .  .199 

OUT  OF  FASHION    .        „        .-        .        .  .     200 

THE  OLD  MAN  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS.        .  .201 

POEMS  OF  FAIRIES 

SLUMBER  FAIRIES   ......  205 

FAIRY'S  LULLABY 207 

FAIRY  RIP  VAN  WINKLE.        ,  209 

THE  TROLL    .  211 


Viil  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

BABY  HAZEL'S  VOYAGE  .         .         .         .         .213 

BONNY'S  BIRTHDAY 215 

THE  WISHING-CAP  .         .         .         .         .219 

THE  LITTLE  KNIGHT  IN  GREEN       ,     v    .         .     222 
OUR  FAMILY  CREST         .         „        .         .         .     225 


Fairy  Gold:     A  Play 


Fairy   Gold 

A  PLAY  IN  THREE  SCENES 
The  Players,  in  Order  of  Entrance: 

LEPRECAUN,  the  Fairy  Shoemaker 
The  Pansy  Fairies : 

TWINKLE,  a  Saucy  Fairy  in  a  Yellow  Hat 
SPECKLE,  a  Kindly  Fairy  in  a  Hat  of 

Many  Colors 
SKYPEEP,  a  Very  Polite  Fairy  in  a  Blue 

Hat 
WEEWEE,  the  Smallest  Fairy  in  a  White 

Hat  trimmed  with  Brown 
DUSKY,  a  Queen  Fairy  in  a  Purple  Hat 
JACK- A-D  REAMS 
LADY  LEPRECAUN 
ZAN-IN-A-TIPPET 


SCENE   I 

[//  the  play  is  acted  out  of  doors,  a  lawn  with 
bushes  of  blossoming  forsythia  would  make  the 
best  of  springtime  settings.  For  later  summer,  a 
meadow  of  goldenrod  or  indigo  weed  would 
answer,  or,  where  gorse  grows,  the  gorse.  If  the 
play  is  indoors,  and  the  florist  has  no  yellow 
blossoming  plants  to  give  away,  home  artists  can 
fashion  flowers  yet  unknown  to  botany  from 
green  pasteboard  and  yellow  paper.  In  the  thick 
of  the  golden  bloom  is  a  rough  brown  stump  of 
considerable  size.  On  this  is  seated,  cross-legged, 
an  elf  who  looks,  at  first  glance,  like  a  twisted 
outgrowth  of  the  stump.  He  is  dressed  in  brown 
from  top  to  toe,  except  for  the  magic  red  cap  with 
the  white  owl-feather  which  is  the  regular  head 
gear  of  fairy  men.  He  wears  a  brown  leather 
apron.  A  pile  of  nine  silvery  slippers  lies  on 


4  FAIRY  GOLD 

the  stump  beside  him,  and  he  is  pounding,  with 
steady  strokes,  on  a  tenth,  chanting  dolefully  in 
time  to  the  blows  of  his  small  hammer.  (A  bit 
of  metal,  concealed  inside  the  slipper,  will  make 
the  hammer-strokes  ring)  A  group  of  five  bare 
footed  pansy  fairies ,  each  dressed  in  close-fitting 
green  with  a  very  broad  hat  of  one  pansy  hue  or 
another,  wait  about  the  stump  with  soft,  fluttering 
motions,  so  full  of  frolic  that  they  cannot  stand 
still] 

LEPREC  AUN  : 
Alack! 
Tick-tack! 
Tack-tick! 

TWINKLE: 
Be  quick. 
Don't  croak 
And  stop 
For  groans, 


FAIRY  GOLD  5 

You  slow 
Old  poke. 

SPECKLE: 

Tut,  tut ! 

LEPRECAUN     [Rubbing  himself  all  over]: 
Oh,  oh! 
Tick-tack  ! 
Tack-tick  ! 
I  am 
One  ache 
From  top 
To  toe. 
My  back 
Will  break. 
Oh,  what 
A  crick  ! 

TWINKLE  : 

Don't  nurse 


FAIRY   GOLD 


Your  dry 
Old  bones. 
Be  spry 
And  make 
Your  ham- 
Mer  click. 
Don't  shirk. 
Just  keep 
At  work. 
Our  purse 
Is  deep. 

SPECKLE : 
I  fear 
He's  in 
A  dump. 


LEPRECAUN  : 
Why  not? 


FAIRY  GOLD 


My  lot 
Is  drear. 

TWINKLE    [Mockingly]: 
Hear,  hear  ! 

LEPRECAUN    [Angrily]: 
You  know 
Tis  so,— 
That  year 
By  year, 
Upon 
This  queer 
Old  stump, 
I  mend 
Your  shoes 
From  dews 
Of  dawn 
Till  dews 
Of  eve. 


FAIRY  GOLD 


Alack  ! 
Tick-tack  . 

SKYPEEP: 

Good  friend, 
Receive 
Our  thanks. 
You  win 
Our  love. 
Great  pains 
You  take, 
All  for 
Our  sake. 

TWINKLE: 
O  pshaw  ! 
His  gains 
He'll  make 
In  gold. 
Huge  store 


FAIRY  GOLD  9 

Thereof 
He  hoards 
In  se- 
Cret  banks. 

WEEWEE  : 

Does  he  ? 
Let's  look 
For  them 
By  hill 
And  brook 
And  wil- 
Low  stem. 

LEPRECAUN     [Shaking  his  head  almost  off  his 

shoulders] : 
No,  no  ! 
Not  so  ! 
No  more 
Bright  gold 


10  FAIRY  GOLD 

This  earth 
Affords 
For  me 
Than  grows 
On  shrub. 


TWINKLE: 
Oh,  rub 
Your  knee  ! 

LEPRECAUN  [Threatening  Twinkle  with  his 
hammer  and  then  throwing  it 
down] : 

The  scamp  ! 

He  knows 

How  hard 

I  work 

In  heat 

And  damp 

And  cold. 


FAIRY   GOLD  II 

TWINKLE: 
A  cross- 
Legged  Turk, 
You  guard 
Your  gold. 

DUSKY     [Speaking  to  Twinkle  as  severely  as  a 

fairy  can] : 
Tush,  tush  ! 
Enough  ! 
Now  hush  ! 
You  mar 
Our  mirth. 
You  jar 
Our  joy. 
You  are 
Too  rough 
And  bold. 

[To  the  Leprecaun.] 

We  blush 


12  FAIRY  GOLD 

For  this 
Annoy 
And  would 
Entreat 
Your  speed, 
Kind  sir. 
Forget 
All  ill, 
For  still 
Our  feet 
Go  bare. 

LEPRECAUN     [Folding  his  arms  tighter  than 

tight]: 
Indeed  ! 
Why  should 
I  care? 
Why  should 
I  stir? 
I'll  take 


FAIRY  GOLD  13 

My  ease. 
A  Turk  ! 

WEEWEE  : 

You'll  make 
Us  cry. 

LEPRECAUN     [Coldly]: 
Will  I  ? 

SPECKLE : 

Oh,  please  ! 

LEPRECAUN     [Glancing  down  at  his  hammer]: 
Not  yet. 

SKYPEEP: 

I'll  throw 
A  kiss. 

[So  she  does,  but  Twinkle  jumps  up 
and  catches  it.] 

TWINKLE: 

Oho! 


14  FAIRY  GOLD 

You  miss 
Your  aim. 

SPECKLE : 

For  shame  ! 

[All  the  other  fairies  point  reproach 
fully  at  Twinkle.] 

SKYPEEP: 
Ofie! 
Don't  tell. 

WEEWEE: 

You  could 
Be  good, 
As  well 
As  I. 

DUSKY   [To    Twinkle    in  a  calm  but  awful 

voice}: 
We'll  shut 
You  up 


FAIRY  GOLD  15 

In  a- 
Corn  cell, 
Or  cut 
You  up 

Yourself 
For  gold 
And  pay 
Him  well. 

LEPRECAUN    [Picking  up  his  hammer]: 
Hurray  ! 
Good  pay. 

[All  the  other  fairies  set  upon  Twinkle, 
opening  and  shutting  their  fingers 
like  scissors.] 

TWINKLE     [Running  about  in  a  fright]: 
Away  ! 
Help  all! 
I'll  call 


16  FAIRY  GOLD 

The  elf 
Police. 

[To  Dusky.] 

Oh,  cease 

To  scold. 
I'm  good 
As  gold. 

DUSKY: 

Just  hold 
That  mood. 

LEPRECAUN     [Hammering    with    might    and 

main]: 
Tick-tack  ! 
Tack-tick  ! 
My  knack 
Is  quick. 
'Tis  now 
My  whim 


FAIRY  GOLD  17 

To  show 
My  skill. 

SKYPEEP  : 

Let's  bow 
To  him. 

[The  fairies  make  a  great  many  bows, 
faster  and  faster  and  deeper  and 
deeper,  till  Weewee  topples  over, 
while  the  Leprecaun,  tossing  the 
mended  slipper  to  Skypeep,  falls 
to  work  on  another.] 

SKYPEEP     [Offering  her  slipper  politely,  but 
very  rapidly,   to   each  fairy  in 
turn.]: 
[To  Dusky}: 

Will  you 
Take  it  ? 
Not  so  ? 


18  FAIRY  GOLD 

[To  Weewee]: 
Oh,  you 
It  will 
Not  fit 
At  all,       . 
I  know. 

[To  Speckle]: 
My  shoe 
Were  small 
For  you, 

[To  Twinkle]: 
And  you. 
Oh,  oh  ! 

[ Twinkle  has  snatched  the  slipper,  but 
as  all  the  fairies  begin  to  chase  him, 
again  opening  and  shutting  their 
fingers  like  scissors,  he  flings  it  back 
to  Sky  peep,  who  puts  it  on  and  hops 
joyously  about  on  one  foot.] 


FAIRY  GOLD  19 

DUSKY  : 

Pansies  wear, 
Pansies  wear 
Purples  woven 
Out  of  air, 
Out  of  air, 
Dew  and  sun; 
Purple  pansies; 
I  am  one. 

Pansies  wear 
Overnight 
Slippers  made  of 
Silver  light; 
Silver  shoon 
Softly  spun 
Out  of  moonshine; 
Give  me  one. 

[The   Leprecaun  drops  a  slipper  to 
Dusky    and    hammers    away    on 


20  FAIRY  GOLD 

another.  Dusky  takes  Skypeep's 
hands  and,  each  on  one  foot,  they 
skip  about  together.] 

TWINKLE     [Mocking  Dusky' s  song}: 
Pansies  wear — 
— Look  at  me  ! — 
Gleamy  yellows, 
Good  to  see, 
Good  to  see 
In  the  sun ; 
Merry  fellows; 
I  am  one. 

Cobbler  sits, 
Cobbler  sits 
Hammering  with 
All  his  wits, 
All  his  wits, 
Just  for  fun, 


FAIRY  GOLD  21 

Mending  slippers. 

Give  me  one. 

[The  Leprecaun  shies  a  slipper  at  the 
head  of  Twinkle,  who  dodges  and 
catches  it.  Putting  it  on,  he  takes 
hands  with  Dusky  and  Skypeep  and 
they  hop  about  in  a  circle.] 

SPECKLE     [Leading  Weewee  up  to  the  stump}: 
Pansies  wear, 
I  have  heard, 
Like  to  flower, 
Moth  and  bird, 
What  they  have, 
Stripe  or  freckle. 

WEEWEE: 

Slippers,  please, 
For  me  and  Speckle. 

[The  Leprecaun  hands  down  a  slipper 


22  FAIRY  GOLD 

to  Speckle,  which  she  fits  on  the  foot 
of  Weewee,  who  goes  skipping  in  the 
circle  with  the  rest.  The  Lepre- 
caun  hammers  harder  than  ever, 
while  Speckle  stands  waiting.] 

LEPRECAUN     [Growing  more  cheerful  as  he  gets 

on  with  his  task]: 
Tick-tack  ! 
Tack-tick  ! 
No  thorn 
Shall  prick 
Your  feet 
So  light. 

[Gives  a  slipper  to  Speckle,  who  joins 
the  fairy  ring,  while  the  Leprecaun 
mends  the  rest  of  the  slippers,  one 
after  another,  at  an  amazing  rate  of 
speed.] 
No  elf, 


FAIRY  GOLD  23 


No  flower, 
Shall  lack 
To-night 
Soft  shoon 
As  bright 
As  our 
Own  moon, 
As  her 
White  fire. 
Though  torn, 
Perchance, 
By  burr 
Or  brier, 
Though  worn 
By  danc 
ing  step 
Upon 
The  lawn, 
Across 
The  moss, 


24  FAIRY  GOLD 

Myself, 

Myself, 

The  Lep- 

Recaun, 

With  patch 

On  patch 

Will  make 

Them  neat 

For  f  air- 

Y  feet. 

So  take  !     [Tosses  a  slipper  to  Dusky.] 

So  catch  !     [Throws  another  to  Speckle.] 

Your  share  !     [Flings  another  to  Skypeep.] 

Your  match !   [Pitches  another  to  Weewee.] 

My  birds  ! 

But  who 

Deride 

My  skill     [Points  angrily  at  Twinkle.] 

May  rue 

Their  words 


FAIRY  GOLD  25 

And  wait. 

TWINKLE: 

[Clambers  up  on  the  stump  and  sits 
close  beside  the  Leprecaun,  holding 
the  last  slipper  under  the  hammer. 
The  other  fairies,  now  able  to  use 
both  feet,  join  hands  and  dance 
about  the  stump.} 

No  fear  ! 

I  will 

Abide 

Right  here, 

Old  mate. 

LEPRECAUN    [Relenting]: 
What,  what  ! 
Hum,  hum  ! 
Oho! 
You'll  sit 


26  FAIRY  GOLD 

By  me 
And  try 
To  coax 
Me  so 
With  aid? 
A  hoax  ! 

TWINKLE: 
No,  no, 
I'm  not 
So  bad, 
Old  lad, 
—Don't  hit 
My  thumb! — 
But  I 
Am  made 
Of  jokes 
And  glee, 
Not  glum 
Like  some 


FAIRY  GOLD  2J 

Old  folks 
I  know. 

LEPRECAUN    [In  high  good  humor]: 
Tick-tack  ! 
Tack-tick! 
My  back 
May  ache, 
But  fays 
Must  trip 
In  sil- 
Ver  shoon 

When  moon-  .  „ 

Shine  plays. 
So  take 
Your  pick. 

[Laughingly  fits  the  one  slipper  left  on 
Twinkle's  uptiltedfoot.] 

TWINKLE  : 

I  will, 
Thankee. 


28  FAIRY  GOLD 

Now  skip 

With  me. 

[Twinkle  pulls  the  stiff  old  elf  up  with 
him  and  they  dance  together  on  the 
stump,  while  the  other  fairies  circle 
about  them  and  sing.] 

FAIRIES: 

Who's  the  fairy  milliner? 
Don't  you  wish  you  knew? 
Would  you  buy  your  hats  of  her  ? 
Wouldn't  you? 

Underneath  the  Sunset  Tree, 
Where  the  bright  leaves  drop, 
She  is  busy  in  her  wee 
Pansy  shop. 

Every  leaf  her  shears  cut  out 
Into  scallops  five, 
— Shears  that  buzz  like  bees  about 
Honey-hive ; 


FAIRY  GOLD  2Q 

For  a  million  hats  they  frame, 
Funny,  curly  shears, 
But  the  fashions  are  the  same 
All  the  years. 

LEPRECAUN     [Pushing  Twinkle  to  the  edge  of 

the  stump]: 
You  bump 
Me,  boy. 
Begone  ! 

TWINKLE    [Springing  down]: 
I  jump. 
Enjoy 

Your  stump 
Alone. 

[The  Leprecaun  whirls  around  and 
around  on  the  stumpy  his  leather 
apron  flapping  out  in  front  of  him 
and  his  owl-feather  cap  trying  to 


30  FAIRY  GOLD 

fly,  while  the  fairies  laugh  and  clap. 
Soon  he  sinks  down,  tired  out,  and 
waves  them  all  away.] 

LEPRECAUN: 
So,  so! 
Be  pleased 
Togo. 
I  can 
No  more 
Be  teased 
By  you. 
I'm  sore 
All  through. 
The  earth's 
Not  all 
A  pan- 
Sy  bed. 

TWINKLE  : 
Buz-buz  ! 


FAIRY  GOLD  31 

Who  said 
It  was? 

LEPRECAUN  : 

Your  worth's 
But  small 
Beside 
The  rose. 

DUSKY: 

Who  knows? 

LEPRECAUN: 
A  score 
Of  flowers 
Will  soon 
Be  here 
With  shoes 
All  torn 
By  burr 


32  FAIRY  GOLD 

And  thorn. 
Before 
They  call, 
I  need 
Repose. 

SPECKLE: 

Poor  dear! 
He's  wan 
And  hol- 
Low-eyed. 

SKYBLUE : 

We're  gone. 
Don't  chide. 

DUSKY: 

The  moon 
Is  due 
In  few 


FAIRY  GOLD  33 

Swift  hours. 
O  pan- 
Sies,  flit. 
We  can 
Not  lose 
One  gleam 
Of  her. 

WEEWEE  : 
No,  no. 
Not  one 
Bright  beam 
Of  her. 

[As   the  fairies   are   dancing   away, 
Leprecaun  begins  to  hem  and  haw.] 

LEPRECAUN: 
Yet  stay  ! 
Yet  hold! 
My  pay  ! 
My  bill  ! 


34  FAIRY  GOLD 

TWINKLE: 
Oho! 
That's  it. 
A  dun  ! 
Old  gold- 
Bug  still ! 

[The  fairies  skurry  hither  and  yon 
over  the  field.  Each  finds  something 
bright  and  yellow  and  tosses  it  into 
Leprecaun's  leather  apron.] 

LEPRECAUN : 
What  gain? 
What  make 
I  by 
My  wit 
Of  hand? 
A  flake 
Ofi- 
Singlass  ! 


FAIRY  GOLD  35 

Some  yel- 
Low  sand ! 
All  vain. 
A  bit 
Of  horn  ! 
A  grain 
Of  corn  ! 
Alas! 
But  here 
— Take  cheer, 
My  eyes  ! — 
Here,  here 
Is  gold. 
All's  well. 
Gold,  gold  ! 
Odear 
Delight ! 
I'll  hold 
It  tight. 

[He  hugs  a  big  gilt  button.] 


36  FAIRY  GOLD 

FAIRIES: 

The  wind's  far  whistle 
Calls  every  fay. 
Down  of  the  thistle. 
Away ! 

In  your  lap  of  leather 
Our  gold  we  throw. 
Flight  of  a  feather. 
We  go. 

LEPRECAUN  [Watching  the  little  pansy  people 
as,  still  singing,  they  dance  out 
of  sight}: 

Ay,  ay! 

Flit  fast. 

Keep  step. 

Goodbye. 

They're  gone. 

The  Lep- 

Recaun 


FAIRY  GOLD  37 

At  last 
Can  yawn. 

[Yawns  prodigiously.] 
Dance  on 
To  your 
Moon  ball. 

[Murmurs  drowsily.] 
Alack! 
I'm  sure 
By  dawn 
You'll  all 
Be  back. 

[The  Leprecaun,  still  clutching  his  gilt 
button,  curls  himself  up  on  the 
stump  and  falls  fast  asleep.] 


SCENE  II 

[As  before,  the  Leprecaun  still  sound  asleep 
on  his  stump.  Enter  Jack-a-Dr earns,  all  in 
tatters,  except  for  his  red  necktie,  with  an  empty 
sack  and  a  shovel  on  his  shoulder.] 

JACK-A-DREAMS  : 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks 

Crammed  with  gleaming  gold! 
Still  I  search  and  still  Zan  mocks, 

But  she  will  not  scold 
When  I  find  the  elfin  treasure, 

Fill  my  sack  and  scamper  home 
With  more  gold  than  man  can  measure, 

Yellow  as  the  sunlit  foam. 

[The  Leprecaun  stirs  and  begins  to 

uncurl.] 

38 


FAIRY  GOLD  39 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks 

Buried  years  agone 
Deep  beneath  the  lichened  rocks 

By  the  Leprecaun. 
Zan,  whose  tongue  so  often  chides  me, 

Will  forgive  my  thriftless  ways 
When  a  shower  of  gold-dust  hides  me, 

Like  the  sun  in  dazzling  haze. 

[The  Leprecaun  stretches  his  short  arms 
and  legs  in  a  long  yawn.] 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks ! 

I  will  stuff  with  gold 
All  her  teapots,  all  her  socks. 

Then  she  will  not  scold. 
I  will  take  her  old  gray  tippet, 

Gnawed  o'nights  by  hungry  mice, 
And  in  molten  gold  I'll  dip  it 

Till  it  shines  like  Paradise. 


40  FAIRY  GOLD 

[The  Leprecaun  sits  upright  on  the 
stump  with  crossed  legs,  rubs  his 
eyes  and  begins  to  chuckle.  His 
back  is  turned  to  Jack-a-Dr  earns, 
•whose  presence  he  has  not  noticed.] 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks ! 
I  will — zooks!  what's  that? 

[Jack  catches  sight  of  the  fairy  shoe 
maker  and,  jumping  back  in  great 
surprise  and  excitement,  drops  his 
shovel,  which  falls  noiselessly  on  the 
grass.] 

'Tis  the  Leprecaun  who  locks 
Up  his  gold. 

LEPRECAUN  :  Tit-tat ! 

[The  Leprecaun  raps  softly  with  his 
hammer  on  one  side  of  the  stump.  A 


FAIRY  GOLD  4! 

door  opens  and  out  peeps  the  elfin 
face,  looking  much  like  a  walnut,  of 
Lady  Leprecaun.] 

JACK-A-DREAMS  : 

Bless  my  eyes,  'tis  his  old  mother, 
But  without  a  pipe,  like  mine 

Drowsing  in  the  peat-smoke  smother — 
How  I'll  dress  her  up! 

LADY  LEPRECAUN     [Whose  voice  is  no  more 

than  a  squeak]: 
Wilt  dine, 
My  son  ? 
A  roast- 
Ed  snail 
Is  set 
Upon 
The  mush- 
Room  plate 
For  thee. 


42  FAIRY  GOLD 

LEPRECAUN  : 

Not  yet. 
I'll  wait 
Till  tea. 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 
Tush,  tush! 
Thou'rt  pale. 
Not  well, 
My  pet? 
A  toast- 
Ed  mel- 
On  seed 
Might  whet 
Thine  ap- 
Petite. 

LEPRECAUN: 

Mayhap 
It  might 
To-night; 


FAIRY  GOLD  43 

But  now 
I  need 
Thee,  mam, 
To  sew 
For  me. 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 
Then  thou 
Hast  got 
One  but- 
Ton  more 
In  store? 

LEPRECAUN: 

Just  see 
This  toy! 

[Triumphantly  displaying  the  big  gilt 
button.] 

LADY  LEPRECAUN     [Her  walnut-head  wagging 

with  eagerness] : 
What,  what? 


44  FAIRY  GOLD 

Oh,  oh! 
My  clev- 
Er  lamb ! 
My  love- 
Lytoad  ! 
I'll  seW 
Apace 
For  thee, 
My  val 
iant  dove ! 
My  grace- 
Ful  bum- 
Ble-bee  I 
Was  ev- 
Er  boy 
Like  him  I 
I'll  sew 
The  but- 
Ton  strong, 
And  make 


FAIRY  GOLD  45 

Him  fit 
For  court, 
So  fine 
He  shall 
Outshine 
Them  all 
In  f  air- 
Y  hall. 

LEPRECAUN  [Lying  flat  across  the  stump  and 
reaching  down  both  arms  to 
help  her]: 

Then  come 

Along, 

And  quit 

Our  dim 

Abode, 

Our  low- 

Ly  fort. 

Here!  take 

My  hand, 


46  FAIRY  GOLD 

So — so, 
And  climb 
The  brier- 
Built  stair 
Above, 

[Lady  Leprecaun,  all  in  brown  like  her 
son,  is  very  stiff  with  her  great  age 
and  has  much  difficulty  in  scramb 
ling  up.] 

For  I'm 

On  fire 

To  wear 

My  grand 

New  coat. 

[He  whisks  out  from  a  closet  in  the 
stump  a  jacket  of  scarlet  silk,  set  with 
seven  rows  of  gilt  buttons.  Each 
row  but  one  has  seven  buttons;  the 
unfinished  row  has  only  six.] 


FAIRY  GOLD  47 

LADY  LEPRECAUN    [Panting  from  her  exer 
tions]  : 
Puff,  puff! 
Huh,  huh  ! 
Ump,  ump  ! 

0  son, 

1  do 

Not  doat 
Upon 
Thy  rough 
Old  stump. 

[He  pats  her  affectionately  and  places 
her  on  a  moss  cushion  with  her  back 
to  his.] 

LEPRECAUN  : 

Now  sit 
Thou  here 
And  take 
Support 


48  FAIRY  GOLD 

From  my 

Firm  back. 

[As  Lady  Leprecaun  sits  sewing  with 
her  shoulders  braced  against  those 
of  her  son,  who  is  nearly  asleep 
again,  she  faces  Jack,  staring  open- 
mouthed,  but,  intent  on  her  work, 
does  not  see  him.  While  she  stitches, 
she  pipes  in  that  shrill  voice  of  hers 
the  fairy  sewing-song.] 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

When  a  fairy 
Has  torn  her  gown 
She  need  not  carry 
Pennies  to  town. 

If  a  needle 

Is  her  desire, 

She  can  wheedle 

A  thorn  from  the  brier. 


FAIRY  GOLD  49 

She  can  provide  her 
Floss  white  as  milk, 
Coaxing  the  spider 
For  cobweb  silk. 

Birds  prick  cherries, 
But  never  an  elf 
Mid  thimble-berries 
Need  prick  herself. 

The  field's  a  city 
Whose  shops  are  free — 

[Lady  Leprecaun  suddenly  glances  up 
and  sees  the  mortal  in  front  of  her.] 

JACK-A-DREAMS    [Mocking  her  piping  tones] : 
Finish  your  ditty 
And  don't  mind  me. 

[Both  fairies  vanish  in  a  twinkling 
within  the  stump,  but  Jack  rushes 
up  just  in  time  to  snatch  the  red  cap 
with  the  owl-feather  from  the  dis- 


50  FAIRY  GOLD 

appearing  head  of  the  Leprecaun. 
Jack  dances  about,  flourishing  his 
prize.] 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks  ! 

I  need  no  longer  hunt. 
I  hold  your  magic  cap,  old  fox. 

Give  me  gold. 

LEPRECAUN  [Popping  into  view  for  an  instant 
over  the  further  edge  of  the 
stump.] 

I  won't. 

JACK-A-DREAMS  : 

Ha !     I  hold  your  white  owl-feather, 
By  whose  virtue  elves  enchant. 

Cobbler,  let  us  trade  together, — 
Give  me  just  one  crock. 

LADY  LEPRECAUN    [Popping  up  exactly  as  her 
son  had  done] : 

He  shan't. 


FAIRY  GOLD  5! 

JACK-A-D  REAMS: 

Eight-and-ninety  treasure-crocks 

Left  when  I  am  done. 
Elf, appear!    Your  master   knocks. 

[Jack  sets  the  red  cap  on  top  of  his  head 
and  raps  three  times  on  the  stump.] 
Only  one. 

LEPRECAUN  [Popping  up  as  before,  but  with  a 
doleful  face  and  the  voice  of  a  cry 
ing  child]: 

Not  one. 

JACK-A-DREAMS: 

Amethysts  to  you  and  rubies 

Are  like  berries  on  the  moor, 
Don't  be  stingy  to  us 

LADY  LEPRECAUN     [Popping  up  in  a  fury]: 

Boobies. 
We're  the  poorest  of  the  poor. 


52  FAIRY  GOLD 

JACK-A-D REAMS  I 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks ! 

Fairy,  how  you  fib ! 
Really,  such  behavior  shocks 

Boobies.     You're  too  glib. 
Would  you  call  my  Zan-in-a-Tippet 

Naughty  names  ?     Look  out  for  her, 
You  bad-tempered  little  skippet, 

Prickly  as  a  chestnut  burr. 

[From  within  the  stump  is  heard  the 
wailing  of  the  Leprecaun  and  the 
angry  squeaks  of  his  mother.} 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks ! 

Cobbler,  you  have  fussed 
Long  enough.     Your  master  knocks. 

[Jack  raps  seven  times,  each  rap  louder 
than  the  one  before,  on  the  stump. 
At  the  seventh  rap,  out  comes  the 


FAIRY  GOLD  53 

Leprecaun,   his  face  twisted  with 
crying.] 

Give  me  gold. 

LEPRECAUN  : 

I  must.     [In  a  screech  of  despair.] 

JACK-A-DREAMS 

You  shall  have  your  cap  and  feather 
For  one  crock  of  gold.    We'll  fill 

This  my  sack  like  friends  together. 
Will  you  play  me  fair? 

LADY  LEPRECAUN    [From  within  the  stump]: 

He  will. 
JACK-A-DREAMS  : 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks ! 

Whoop ! — I  told  her  so. 

Barnyard  roosters,  weathercocks, 
Help  the  dreamer  crow. 

[Cockadoodles  resound  from  far  and 
near.] 


54  FAIRY  GOLD 

Show  me  where  the  gold  you  bury, 
Michael  Mole. — Zan'sf oolish  doubts ! — 

Hey-down-hey-down-hey-down-derry! 
Come,  be  nimble,  Peter  Pouts. 

[Very  sulkily  the  Leprecaun  clambers 
down  the  stump  and  slowly  leads  the 
way  across  the  field  to  one  of  the 
yellow-blossoming  shrubs,  where  he 
stops  and  points  earthward.] 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks 
Crammed  with  gleaming  gold!     . 

We'll  no  more  be  laughing-stocks. 
Zan  no  more  will  scold. 

[Jack  picks  up  his  shovel  and  weighs  it 
in  his  hands.] 

Whew,  but  it's  a  heavy  shovel ! 

Digging  hard  my  hands  would  hurt, 
And  I  never  liked  to  grovel 

In  the  unbecoming  dirt. 


FAIRY  GOLD  55 

Nine-and-ninety  treasure-crocks ! 

Ha,  'tis  Zan  shall  dig. 
She's  as  strong  as  any  ox, 

And  her  hands  are  big. 
But  I  must  be  keen  and  canny 

And  beware  of  fairy  trap. 
See  me  mark  the  spot,  my  manny. 

[Jack  pulls  off  his  red  necktie  and 
fastens  it  in  a  bowknot  about  the 
stem  of  the  shrub.] 

There's  my  fortune. — Catch  your  cap. 
[Jack  tosses  the  cap  to  the  Leprecaun, 
who  seizes  it  eagerly  and  races  back 
to  the  stump,  holding  the  cap  down 
over  his  ears  with  both  hands.  Jack 
drops  sack  and  shovel  on  the  ground, 
and  walks  off  whistling  cheerily,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets.] 


SCENE    III 

[As  before.  The  Leprecaun  sits  hunched,  up 
on  the  stump,  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  and  his 
chin  in  his  hands.  Lady  Leprecaun,  a  bent, 
witchlike  little  figure,  stands  beside  him,  leaning 
on  a  fairy-horn.] 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 
Come,  come, 
My  pet ! 
So  glum? 
Don't  fret. 
Be  bold 
Of  cheer, 
My  clam, 
And  hug 

Your  dear 

56 


FAIRY  GOLD  57 


Old  mam. 
We  need 
Not  cry 
Until 

We're  hurt, 
And  still 
The  gold, 
Bright  seed 
Well  sown, 
Is  here 
Beneath 
Yon  red 
Cravat. 
(The  ug- 
Ly  thing ! 
I  would 
That  it 
Were  in 
My  teeth.) 
We  will 


58  FAIRY  GOLD 

Outwit 
The  boo- 
By  yet 
And  win 
Our  own. 

LEPRECAUN    [Gloomily]: 
But  who 
Has  prom 
ised  that 
I  should 

Play  fair? 

• 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 
My  bat, 
And  so 
Thou  shalt. 
Go  free 
From  fault. 
Trust  all 


FAIRY  GOLD  59 

Tome, 
For  I, 
Sweet  bird, 
My  crow, 
Am  bound 
By  no 
Such  word. 

LEPRECAUN    [Doubtfully]: 
But  thou 
Art  old. 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 
Thou'rt  pert, 
And  not 
Too  young 
Thyself. 
But  hold 
Thy  tongue, 
Thou  squat- 


6O  FAIRY  GOLD 

\ 
Ly  elf. 

Hark  now ! 
I  will 
With  sil- 
Ver  sound 
Draw  in 
Our  kin 
From  all 
Around. 
I  call. 

[Lady  Leprecaun  lifts  the  fairy-horn 
and  blows  it  thrice.  Fairies,  the 
Pansies  among  them,  run  in  from 
every  side.  The  fairymen  are  clad 
in  close-fitting  grass-green  suits, 
topped  by  red  caps  like  fire-flies. 
The  fairywomen  are  dressed  in  all 
gay  colors  and  look  like  a  runaway 
flower-garden.] 


FAIRY  GOLD  6l 

FAIRIES     [Singing  as  they  gather  about  the 

stump]: 

We  are  the  hid-folk, 
Under-the-leaf  folk, 
Beautiful,  brief  folk, 

Glancing  and  gone. 
We  are  the  mid-folk, 
Nor  angel  nor  earth-folk, 
Glistening  mirth-folk, 

Dew  of  the  dawn. 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

Fairies,  fairies,  fairies, 
Will  ye  serve  our  need? 

FAIRIES  [Standing  at  attention   before  Tier}: 
Tell  us,  tell  us  where  is 
Our  task,  that  we  may  speed. 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

Fairies,  hither  mortals 
Come  to  do  us  scorn. 


62  FAIRY  GOLD 

FAIRIES: 

Shall  we  strew  their  portals 
With  thistle  and  with  thorn? 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

A  booby  craves  our  yellow 
Gold  to  make  him  rich. 

FAIRIES: 

Shall  we  fling  the  fellow 
Into  muddy  ditch? 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

You  may  hide  his  shovel 
And  tear  to  bits  his  bag. 

DUSKY     [While  the  rest  of  the  fairies  gleefully 

run  toward  the  spade  and  sack]: 
Have  we  your  approval 


FAIRY  GOLD  63 

To  remove  that  rag  ? 

[She  points  toward  the  red  necktie.] 

LEPRECAUN: 

No,  old  mother-honey. 
That  isn't  playing  fair. 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

I'll  reason  with  my  sonny, 
The  while  you  tug  and  tear. 

[The  fairies  shred  the  sack  into  little 
pieces,  which  they  tuck  out  of  sight  in 
the  grass.  It  takes  a  score  of  them 
to  carry  off  the  shovel,  on  which 
Twinkle  steals  a  ride,  and  thrust  it 
under  the  bushes.} 

FAIRIES    [Singing  as  they  work]: 
We  are  the  whim-folk, 
Butterfly-mood  folk, 


64  FAIRY  GOLD 

Myriad-hued  folk, 

Mocking  mankind; 

Dazzle-and-dim  folk, 

Baffle-and- tease  folk, 

Do-as-we-please  folk, 

Hide-what-we-find. 

[Meanwhile  the  Leprecauns,  with  much 
shaking  of  heads  and  stiff  but  violent 
gestures,  have  been  engaged  in 
heated  debate.  Soon  Lady  Lepre- 
caun  blows  her  silver  hornt  and  the 
fairies  re-assemble  before  the  stump.] 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

Fairies,  you  were  zealous. 
Thanks  and  thanks  to  you. 

FAIRIES: 

Tell  us,  tell  us,  tell  us 
More  that  we  may  do. 


FAIRY  GOLD  65 


LEPRECAUN: 

You  are  not  to  meddle 
With  that  scarlet  tie. 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

But  where  mortals  peddle, 
And  where  mortals  buy, 
You'll  find  many  another. 
Filch  them  one  by  one. 

LEPRECAUN  : 

Why,  my  wizened  mother? 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

And  why  not,  my  son? 

DUSKY: 

At  the  fair  out  yonder? 


66  FAIRY  GOLD 

TWINKLE: 

And  where  gypsies  bide? 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

Wander,  wander,  wander, 
For  the  world  is  wide. 

FAIRIES     [Singing  as  they  dance  away  in  all 

directions}: 

We  are  the  dream-folk, 
Dancing-by-moon  folk, 
Silvery-shoon  folk, 

Whirling  in  rings ; 
Stealing-the-cream-folk, 
Raiding-the-shelf  folk, 
Mischievous  elf -folk, 
Burglars  on  wings. 
[The  fairies  are  hardly  gone  before 
they  are  back  again,  each  proudly 
waving  a  red  necktie.} 


FAIRY  GOLD  67 


DUSKY: 

The  tinker,  the  tinker 

—What  fun  was  that!— 
Busy  about  his 

Tinkering  sat. 
Softly  the  tinker 

Was  brushed  by  a  gnat, 
And  ho !  he's  without  his 

Red  cravat. 


SPECKLE: 

The  fisher,  the  fisher 

Dipped  his  oar 
To  bring  his  wherry 

Back  to  the  shore. 
Wave  splashed  the  fisher; 

He'll  long  deplore 
Tie  red  as  cherry 

That  once  he  wore. 


68  FAIRY  GOLD 

WEEWEE: 

The  peddler,  the  peddler 

Slept  in  the  sun 
And  dreamed  his  bundle 

Started  to  run. 
Wheelbarrow  peddler 

Awoke  with  one 
Less  necktie  to  trundle. 

— Oh,  that  was  fun! — 


SKYPEEP  : 

The  lover,  the  lover 

Sped  through  the  rye, 
Where  bees  were  humming, 

His  luck  to  try. 
Bee  stung  the  lover; 

Lass  said  Fie  I 
To  see  him  coming 

Without  a  tie. 


FAIRY  GOLD  69 

TWINKLE     [So  wound  about  with  red  cravats 
that  he  looks  like  the  Prince  of  the 
Poppies]: 
The  raven,  the  raven 

From  the  shopman's  line 
Stole — bad  manners ! — 

Ties  red  as  wine. 
A  straw  for  the  raven ! 

Nest  in  the  pine 
Misses  its  banners. 
• — What  fun  was  mine ! — 

[And  still  fairies  come  leaping  and 
laughing  in  with  more  and  more  red 
neckties,  which  they  flourish  as  they 
dance  about  the  stump.] 

LADY  LEPRECAUN    [Who  has  blown  her  silver 

horn  for  silence]: 
I  call. 
The hour 


7O  FAIRY  GOLD 

Is  near. 
Hush,  all 
Who  are 
Our  friends, 
And  hear 
My  strat- 
Agem. 
Elves,  I 
Beseech 
You,  tie 
On  each 
Tall  stem 
That  dips 
And  bends 
With  flower 
Of  gold, 
Those  scar- 
Let  strips 
Ye  hold. 
Work  fast. 


FAIRY  GOLD  71 

LEPRECAUN     [Rocking  with  laughter  until  he 

has  to  hold  his  sides]: 
Ho,  ho! 
I  spy 

What  thou 
Art  at. 

LADY  LEPRECAUN: 

At  last, 
My  bat? 

FAIRIES     [Suiting  action  to  word]: 

We  bow. 

We  go. 

We  tie. 

[Enter  Jack-a-Dr  earns  and  Zan-in-a- 
Tippet,  who  is  a  worried-looking 
woman  with  a  gray  worsted  scarf, 
old  and  worn,  about  her  neck.  The 
fairies  gaze  at  her  in  fascinated 
astonishment.] 


72  FAIRY  GOLD 

DUSKY: 

She  is  not  glad. 

TWINKLE: 

She  is  not  free. 

SKYPEEP: 

She  is  not  sweet. 

SPECKLE: 

Her  smile  has  had 
A  kitchen  smut. 

WEEWEE: 

Her  feet  don't  dance. 

DUSKY  : 

The  ignorance 
Of  mortal  feet ! 

SKYPEEP: 

Nor  yet  her  eyes. 
She  does  not  see 
The  butterflies. 


FAIRY  GOLD  73 

TWINKLE  : 

When  has  she  played? 

SPECKLE: 

Her  tippet's  frayed. 

WEEWEE: 

It's  'fraid  o'  what? 

JACK-A- DREAMS     [In  argument  with  his  wife]: 
When  you  see  them,  you'll  believe. 

ZAN-IN-A-TIPPET  : 

Fiddle-faddle !    Men  deceive. 

JACK: 

But  I  talked  with  two  this  noon. 

ZAN: 

So  you  say,  you  great  gossoon. 

JACK: 

They  were  uglier  than  apes. 

[The  Leprecauns  shake  their  fists  at 
him.] 


74  FAIRY  GOLD 

ZAN: 

You're  no  beauty,  Jackanapes. 
[The  fairies  laugh  and  skip.] 

JACK: 

Here  they  sit  upon  this  stump. 

[Springing  toward  the  Leprecauns,  who 
crouch  motionless.] 

ZAN: 

Would  they  did,  to  catch  a  thump. 

[She  strikes  the  rough  brown  wood, 
missing  the  elves  by  a  few  inches.] 

JACK    [Rubbing  his  eyes  in  perplexity,  after 

staring  at  the  stump]: 
Sure,  I  thought  I  saw  them  there. 

ZAN: 

You    see    nothing    everywhere.        [The 
fairies  laugh.] 


FAIRY  GOLD  75 

JACK: 

I  hear  fairy  laughter  now. 

ZAN     [With  impatient  contempt]: 

0  mew-mew!  quack-quack!  bow-wow! 

JACK: 

If  you  should  meet  a  fairy,  Zan, — 

ZAN: 

I'd  pickle  him  in  an  old  tin  can. 

[The  fairies  rush  upon  her  and  pinch 
her  feet.] 

JACK: 

Why  are  you  making  such  a  face  ? 

ZAN: 

There  must  be  nettles  in  this  place. 

JACK: 

1  tell  you  I  talked  with  elves  to-day. 

ZAN: 

Likely  story !     Where  are  they  ? 


76  FAIRY  GOLD 

JACK    [Puzzled  and  rueful]: 

I  can't  see  them  any  more. 

ZAN: 

No,  nor  ever  did  before. 

JACK: 

But  I'll  find  the  crock  of  gold. 

ZAN: 

I'll  believe  when  I  behold. 

JACK: 

I  marked  the  very  spot  hereby. 

ZAN: 

Spoiling  your  best  Sunday  tie. 

JACK  [Gazing  about  the  meadow  in  dismay]: 
Oh,  but  Zan — but  Zan — but  Zan — 

ZAN: 

What's  the  matter  with  the  man? 

JACK: 

All  the  shrubs  are  marked  like  ours. 


FAIRY  GOLD  77 

ZAN: 

Bairns  at  play  have  tagged  the  flowers. 

JACK: 

Where's  my  shovel?  where's  my  sack? 

ZAN: 

You'd  lose  the  coat  from  off  your  back. 

JACK: 

Oh,  the  elves!  the  cheating  elves! 

ZAN: 

It  is  we  who  cheat  ourselves. 

JACK: 

Fairy  gold  still  flies  from  men. 

ZAN: 

Earn  an  honest  penny  then. 

[  Jack  stands  'wringing  his  hands  and 
crying,  while  Zan-in-a-Tippet  boxes 
his  ears  and  keeps  on  cuffing  him 
until  he  kneels  for  mercy.  Neither 


78  FAIRY  GOLD 


of  them  sees  or  hears  the  fairies  who 
dance  in  a  merry  ring  about  themt 
while  the  Leprecauns,  the  Cobbler  in 
his  court-jacket,  indulge  in  a  rheu 
matic  waltz  upon  the  stump.] 


FAIRIES: 

We  are  the  hid-folk, 
Seen-but-by-faith  folk, 
Glimmering  wraith-folk, 

Beauty's  surprise; 
Not-to-be-chid  folk, 
Not-to-be-proved  folk, 
Only  the  loved  folk 

Of  childhood  the  wise. 


Poems  of  Christmas 


79 


CHRISTMAS  ISLAND 

FRINGED  with  coral,  floored  with  lava, 
Three-score  leagues  to  south  of  Java, 
So  is  Christmas  Island  charted 
By  geographers  blind-hearted, 
— Just  a  dot,  by  their  dull  notion, 
On  the  burning  Indian  Ocean; 
Merely  a  refreshment  station 
For  the  birds  in  long  migration; 
Its  pomegranates,  custard-apples 
That  the  dancing  sunshine  dapples, 
Cocoanuts  with  milky  hollows 
Only  feast  wing-weary  swallows, 
Or  the  tropic  fowl  there  dwelling. 
Don't  believe  a  word  they're  telling. 
Christmas  Island,  though  it  seem  land, 
Is  a  floating  bit  of  dreamland 

6  Si 


82  FAIRY  GOLD 

Gone  adrift  from  childhood,  planted 
By  the  winds  with  seeds  enchanted, 
Seeds  of  candied  plum  and  cherry: 
Here  the  Christmas  Saints  make  merry. 


Even  saints  must  have  vacation; 
So  they  chose  from  all  creation, 
As  a  change  from  iceberg  castles 
Hung  with  snow  in  loops  and  tassels, 
Christmas  Island  for  a  summer 
Residence.     The  earliest  comer 
Is  our  own  saint,  none  diviner, 
Santa  Claus.     His  ocean-liner 
Is  a  sleigh  that's  scudding  fast. 
Mistletoe  climbs  up  the  mast, 
And  the  sail,  so  full  of  caper, 
Is  of  tissue  wrapping-paper. 
As  he  steers,  he  hums  a  carol, 
But  instead  of  fur  apparel 


POEMS   OF   CHRISTMAS  83 

Smudged  with  soot,  he's  spick  and  spandy 
In  white  linen,  dear  old  dandy, 
With  a  Borealis  sash  on, 
And  a  palmleaf  hat  in  fashion 
Wreathed  about  with  holly  berry. 
Welcome,  Santa!     Rest  you  merry! 


Next,  his  chubby  legs  bestriding 

Such  a  Yule-log,  who  comes  riding 

Overseas,  the  feast  to  dish  up, 

But — aha! — the  boys'  own  bishop, 

Good  St.  Nicholas!  and  listen! 

Out  of  Denmark  old  Jule-nissen, 

Kindly  goblin,  bent,  rheumatic, 

In  the  milk-bowl  set  up  attic 

For  his  Christmas  cheer,  comes  bobbing 

Through  the  waves.     He'll  be  hob-nobbing 

With  Knecht  Globes,  Dutchman  true, 

Sailing  in  a  wooden  shoe. 


84  FAIRY  GOLD 

When  the  sunset  gold  enamels 
All  the  sea,  three  cloudy  camels 
Bear  the  Kings  with  stately  paces, 
Taking  islands  for  oases, 
While  a  star-boat  brings  Kriss  Kringle. 
Singing  Noel  as  they  mingle, 
Drinking  toasts  in  sunshine  sherry, 
How  the  Christmas  Saints  make  merry ! 

While  a  gray  contralto  pigeon 
Coos  that  loving  is  religion, 
How  they  laugh  and  how  they  rollick, 
How  they  fill  the  isle  with  frolic . 
Up  the  Christmas  Trees  they  clamber, 
Lighting  candles  rose  and  amber, 
Till  the  sudden  moonbeams  glisten. 
Then  all  kneel  but  old  Jule-nissen, 
Who,  a  heathen  elf  stiff -jointed, 
Doffs  his  nightcap,  red  and  pointed; 
For  within  the  moon's  pale  luster 


POEMS   OF   CHRISTMAS  85 

They  behold  bright  figures  cluster; 
Their  adoring  eyes  look  on  a 
Silver-throned  serene  Madonna, 
With  the  Christ-Child,  rosy  sweeting, 
Smiling  to  their  loyal  greeting. 
Would  that  on  this  Holy  Night 
We  might  share  such  blissful  sight, 
— We  might  find  a  fairy  ferry 
To  that  isle  where  saints  make  merry ! 

SANTA  GLAUS'  RIDDLE 

OF  all  the  happy  and  holy  times 
That  fill  the  steeples  with  merry  chimes 
And  warm  our  hearts  in  the  coldest  climes, 
'Twas  Christmas  eve,  as  I  live  by  rhymes. 

One  by  one  had  the  drowsy  oaks 
Wrapt  about  them  their  snow-flake  cloaks, 
And  snugly  fastened,  with  diamond  pins, 
Fleecy  nightcaps  beneath  their  chins. 


86  FAIRY  GOLD 

The  stars  had  kissed  the  hills  good-night, 
But  lingered  yet,  with  a  taper  light, 
Till  the  chattering  lips  of  the  little  streams 
Were  sealed  with  frost  for  their  winter  dreams. 

And  the  silver  moonbeams  softly  fell 
On  cots  as  white  as  the  lily-bell, 
Where  the  nested  children  sweetly  slept, 
While  watch  above  them  their  angels  kept. 

Eyes  of  gray  and  of  hazel  hue, 
Roguish  black  eyes  and  bonny  blue, 
All  with  their  satin  curtains  drawn, 
Peeped  not  once  till  the  shining  dawn. 

But  still  through  the  silent  eventide 
Brown  eyes  twain  were  opened  wide, 
Where,  bolt  upright  in  his  pillows,  sate 
A  wise  little  wean  called  Curly  Pate. 

Not  yet  the  lore  of  schools  and  books 

Had  troubled  the  peace  of  his  childish  looks, 


POEMS   OF   CHRISTMAS  87 

But  through  the  valleys  of  Fairyland 

He  had  walked  with  Wisdom,  hand  in  hand. 

On  midsummer  eves  he  would  hear,  perchance, 
The  shrill,  sweet  pipes  of  the  elfin  dance, 
And  their  dewy  prints  in  the  dawning  trace 
On  tremulous  carpets  of  cobweb  lace. 

He  had  caught  the  clink  of  the  hammers  fine, 
Where  the  goblins  delve  in  their  darksome 

mine, 

In  green  cocked  hats  of  a  queer  design, 
With  crystal  tears  in  their  ruby  eyne. 

He  had  seen  where  the  golden  basket  swings 
At  the  tip  of  the  rainbow's  dazzling  wings, 
Full  of  the  silver  spoons  that  fall 
Into  the  mouths  of  babies  small. 

He  had  met  Jack  Frost  in  tippet  and  furs, 
Pricking  his  thumbs  on  the  chestnut  burrs, 
And  this  learned  laddie  could  tell,  no  doubt, 
Why  nuts  fall  down  and  friends  fall  out. 


88  FAIRY  GOLD 

And  now,  while  the  dusky  night  waxed  late, 
All  nid-nodding  sat  Curly  Pate, 
Scaring  the  dreams,  whose  wings  of  gauze 
Would  veil  his  vision  from  Santa  Claus. 

And  ever  he  raised,  by  a  resolute  frown, 
The  heavy  lids  that  came  stealing  down 
To  rest  their  silken  fringes  brown 
On  the  rosiest  cheek  in  Baby-Town. 

Till  at  last,  at  last, — so  the  legend  tells, — 
He  heard  the  tinkle  of  silver  bells ; 
Tinkle!  tinkle!  a  jocund  tune 
Between  the  snow  and  the  sinking  moon. 

Oh,  then,  how  the  heart  of  our  hero  beat! 
How  it  throbbed  in  time  to  the  music  sweet, 
While  gaily  rung  on  the  frosted  roofs 
The  frolicsome  tramp  of  reindeer  hoofs ! 

And  down  the  chimney  by  swift  degrees 
Came  worsted  stockings  and  velvet  knees, 


POEMS  OF   CHRISTMAS  89 

Till  from  furry  cap  unto  booted  feet 
Dear  Saint  Nicholas  stood  complete. 

Blessings  upon  him!  and  how  he  shook 
His  plump  little  sides  with  a  mirthful  look, 
As  he  crammed,  his  bright,  blue  eyes  a-twinkle, 
The  bairnie's  sock  in  its  every  wrinkle. 

May  he  live  forever — the  blithe  old  soul, 
With  cheeks  so  ruddy  and  shape  so  droll, 
Throned  on  a  Yule-log,  crowned  with  holly, 
The  king  of  kindness,  the  friend  of  folly! 

His  task  was  done,  and  he  brushed  the  snow 
From  his  crispy  beard,  as  he  turned  to  go; 
From  his  crispy  beard  and  his  tresses  hoar, 
As  he  tiptoed  over  the  moonlight  floor. 

But  the  sparkling  flakes  to  delicious  crumbs 
Of  frosted  cakes  and  to  sugar-plums 
Changed  as  they  fell,  whereat  near  by 
A  bubble  of  laughter  proved  the  spy. 


90  FAIRY  GOLD 

Back  from  the  chimney  flashed  the  Saint, 
And  stamped  his  feet  in  a  rage  so  quaint 
That  from  scores  of  pockets  the  dolls  in  glee 
Popped  up  their  curious  heads  to  see. 

"Oho!"  in  a  terrible  voice  he  spake, 
"  By  the  Mistletoe  Bough !  a  boy  awake ! 
Now  freeze  my  whiskers !  but  in  my  pack 
I'll  stow  him  away  for  a  jumping-jack. 

"Wise  as  an  owlet?    Quick!  the  proof! 
My  reindeer  stamp  on  the  snowy  roof. 
So  read  my  riddle,  if  sage  you  be, 
Or  up  the  chimney  you  go  with  me. 

"  Name  me  the  tree  of  the  deepest  roots, 
Whose  boughs  are  laden  with  sweetest  fruits, 
In  bleakest  weather  which  blooms  aright, 
And  buds  and  bears  in  a  single  night. " 

Did  Curly  Pate  tremble?     Never  a  whit. 
Below  the  curls  was  the  mot  her- wit; 


POEMS   OF   CHRISTMAS  9 1 

And  well  I  ween  that  his  two  eyes  brown 
Spied  the  dimple  beneath  the  frown. 

So  shaking  shyly,  with  childish  grace, 

The  ringlets  soft  from  his  winsome  face, 

He  peeped  through  his  lashes  and  answered 

true, 
As  I  trow  that  a  brave  little  man  should  do : 

"Please  thy  Saintship,  no  eyes  have  seen 
Thy  wondrous  orchards  of  evergreen ; 
But  where  is  the  wean  who  doth  not  long 
The  whole  year  through  for  thy  harvest  song? 

"The  Christmas  Tree  hath  struck  deep  roots 
In  human  hearts :  its  wintry  fruits 
Are  sweet  with  love,  and  the  bairns  believe 
It  buddeth  and  beareth  on  Holy  Eve. " 

A  stir  in  the  chimney,  a  crackle  of  frost, 
A  tinkle  of  bells  on  the  midnight  lost; 


92  FAIRY  GOLD 

And  in  mirth  and  music  the  riddling  guest 
Had  smiled  and  vanished,  as  saints  know  best. 

But  low  on  his  pillow  the  laddie  dear 
Sank  and  slumbered,  till  chanticleer, 
Crowing  apace,  bade  children  wake 
To  bless  the  dawn  for  the  Christ-child's  sake. 

GOODY  SANTA  CLAUS 

SANTA,  must  I  tease  in  vain,  Dear?    Let  me 

go  and  hold  the  reindeer, 
While  you  clamber  down  the  chimneys. 

Don't  look  savage  as  a  Turk ! 
Why  should  you  have  all  the  glory  of  the 

joyous  Christmas  story, 
And   poor   little  Goody   Santa   Claus   have 
nothing  but  the  work? 

It  would  be  so  very  cozy,  you  and  I,  all  round 
and  rosy, 


POEMS   OF   CHRISTMAS  93 

Looking  like  two  loving  snowballs  in  our 

fuzzy  Arctic  furs, 
Tucked  in  warm  and  snug  together,  whisking 

through  the  winter  weather 
Where  the  tinkle  of  the  sleigh-bells  is  the 

only  sound  that  stirs. 

You  just  sit  here  and  grow  chubby  off  the 

goodies  in  my  cubby 
From   December   to   December,   till   your 

white  beard  sweeps  your  knees ; 
For   you   must    allow,   my    Goodman,   that 

you're  but  a  lazy  woodman 
And  rely  on  me  to  foster  all  our  fruitful 
Christmas  trees. 

While  your  Saintship  waxes  holy,  year  by 

year,  and  roly-poly, 

Blessed  by  all  the  lads  and  lassies  in  the 
limits  of  the  land, 


94  FAIRY  GOLD 

While  your  toes  at  home  you're  toasting,  then 

poor  Goody  must  go  posting 
Out  to  plant  and  prune  and  garner,  where 
our  fir-tree  forests  stand. 

Oh !  but  when  the  toil  is  sorest  how  I  love  our 

fir-tree  forest, 
Heart  of  light  and  heart  of  beauty  in  the 

Northland  cold  and  dim, 
All  with  gifts  and  candles  laden  to  delight  a 

boy  or  maiden, 

And  its  dark-green  branches  ever  murmur 
ing  the  Christmas  hymn ! 

Yet  ask  young  Jack  Frost,  our  neighbor,  who 

but  Goody  has  the  labor, 
Feeding  roots  with  milk  and  honey  that  the 

bonbons  may  be  sweet ! 
Who  but  Goody  knows  the  reason  why  the 

playthings  bloom  in  season 


POEMS  OF   CHRISTMAS  95 

And  the  ripened  toys  and  trinkets  rattle 
gaily  to  her  feet ! 

From  the  time  the  dollies  budded,  wiry-boned 

and  saw-dust  blooded, 
With  their  waxen  eyelids  winking  when  the 

wind  the  tree-tops  plied, 
Have  I  rested  for  a  minute,  until  now  your 

pack  has  in  it 

All  the  bright,  abundant  harvest  of  the 
merry  Christmastide? 

Santa,  wouldn't  it  be  pleasant  to  surprise  me 

with  a  present? 
And  this  ride  behind  the  reindeer  is  the 

boon  your  Goody  begs; 
Think  how  hard  my  extra  work  is,  tending  the 

Thanksgiving  turkeys 

And  our  flocks  of  rainbow  chickens — those 
that  lay  the  Easter  eggs. 


96  FAIRY  GOLD 

Home   to  womankind   is  suited?    Nonsense, 

Goodman !    Let  our  fruited 
Orchards  answer  for  the  value  of  a  woman 

out-of-doors. 
Why  then  bid  me  chase  the  thunder,  while  the 

roof  you're  safely  under, 
All  to  fashion  fire-crackers  with  the  light 
ning  in  their  cores? 

See!    I've    fetched  my    snow-flake    bonnet, 

with  the  sunrise  ribbons  on  it ; 
I've  not  worn  it  since  we  fled  from  Fairyland 

our  wedding  day ; 
How  we  sped  through  iceberg  porches  with  the 

Northern  Lights  for  torches ! 
You  were  young  and  slender,  Santa,  and  we 
had  this  very  sleigh. 

Jump  in  quick  then?  That's  my  bonny.     Hey 
down  derry  !     Nonny  nonny! 


POEMS  OF  CHRISTMAS  97 

While  I  tie  your  fur  cap  closer,  I  will  kiss 

your  ruddy  chin. 

I'm  so  pleased  I  fall  to  singing,  just  as  sleigh- 
bells  take  to  ringing ! 

Are  the  cloud-spun  lap-robes  ready  ?   Tirra- 
lirra !    Tuck  me  in. 

Off  across  the  starlight  Norland,  where  no 

plant  adorns  the  moorland 
Save  the  ruby-berried  holly  and  the  frolic 

mistletoe ! 
Oh,  but  this  is  Christmas  revel!     Off  across 

the  frosted  level 

Where  the  reindeers'  hoofs  strike  sparkles 
from  the  crispy,  crackling  snow! 

There's  the   Man  i'   the   Moon   before   us, 

bound  to  lead  the  Christmas  chorus 
With  the  music  of  the  sky-waves  rippling 
round  his  silver  shell — 


98  FAIRY  GOLD 

Glimmering  boat  that  leans  and  tarries  with 

the  weight  of  dreams  she  carries 
To  the  cots  of  happy  children.     Gentle 
sailor,  steer  her  well ! 

Now  we  pass  through  dusky  portals  to  the 

drowsy  land  of  mortals; 
Snow-enfolded,  silent  cities  stretch  about 

us  dim  and  far. 

Oh!  how  sound  the  world  is  sleeping,  mid 
night  watch  no  shepherd  keeping, 
Though  an  angel-face  shines  gladly  down 
from  every  golden  star. 

Here's  a  roof.     I'll  hold  the  reindeer.    I  sup 
pose  this  weather-vane,  Dear, 
Some  one  set  here  just  on  purpose  for  our 
team  to  fasten  to. 

There's  its  gilded  cock, — the  gaby ! — wants  to 
crow  and  tell  the  baby 


POEMS   OF   CHRISTMAS  99 

We  are  come.      Be  careful,  Santa!     Don't 
get  smothered  in  the  flue. 

Back  so  soon?     No  chimney-swallow  dives 

but  where  his  mate  can  follow. 
Bend   your   cold   ear,    Sweetheart   Santa, 

down  to  catch  my  whisper  faint : 
Would  it  be  so  very  shocking  if  your  Goody 

filled  a  stocking 

Just  for  once?     Oh,  dear!     Forgive  me. 
Frowns  do  not  become  a  Saint. 

I  will  peep  in  at  the  skylights,  where  the  moon 

sheds  tender  twilights 
Equally  down  silken  chambers  and  down 

attics  bare  and  bleak. 
Let  me  shower  with  hailstone  candies  these 

two  dreaming  boys — the  dandies 
In  their  frilled  and  fluted  nighties,  rosy 
cheek  to  rosy  cheek ! 


100  FAIRY  GOLD 

What !    No  gift  for  this  poor  garret  ?    Take  a 

sunset  sash  and  wear  it 
O'er  the  rags,  my  pale-faced  lassie,  till  thy 

father  smiles  again. 
He's  a  poet,  but — oh,  cruel!  he  has  neither 

light  nor  fuel. 

Here's  a  fallen  star  to  write  by,  and  a  music- 
box  of  rain. 

So  our  sprightly  reindeer  clamber,  with  their 

fairy  sleigh  of  amber, 
On  from  roof  to  roof,  the  woven  shades  of 

night  about  us  drawn. 
On  from  roof  to  roof  we  twinkle,  all  the  silver 

bells  a-tinkle, 

Till  blooms  in  yonder  blessed  East  the  rose 
of  Christmas  dawn. 

Now  the  pack  is  fairly  rifled,  and  poor  Santa's 
well-nigh  stifled ; 


POEMS   OF    CHRISTMAS  IOI 

Yet  you  would  not  let  your  Goody  fill  a 

single  baby-sock ; 
Yes,  I  know  the  task  takes  brain,  Dear.    I  can 

only  hold  the  reindeer, 
And  to  see  me  climb  down  chimney — it 

would  give  your  nerves  a  shock. 

Wait!    There's  yet  a    tiny    fellow,  smiling 

lips  and  curls  so  yellow 
You  would  think  a  truant  sunbeam  played 

in  them  all  night.    He  spins 
Giant  tops,  and  flies  kites  higher  than  the  gold 

cathedral  spire 

In  his  dreams— the  orphan  bairnie,  trustful 
little  Tatterkins. 

Santa,  don't  pass  by  the  urchin !    Shake  the 

pack,  and  deeply  search  in 
All  your  pockets.     There  is  always  one  toy 
more.     I  told  you  so. 


IO2  FAIRY  GOLD 

Up  again?     Why,  what's  the  trouble?     On 

your  eyelash  winks  the  bubble 
Mortals  call  a  tear,  I  fancy.     Holes  in  stock 
ing,  heel  and  toe  ? 

Goodman,  though  your  speech  is  crusty  now 

and  then,  there's  nothing  rusty 
In  your  heart.     A  child's  least  sorrow  makes 

your  wet  eyes  glisten,  too; 
But  I'll  mend  that  sock  so  neatly  it  shall  hold 

your  gifts  completely. 

Take  the  reins  and  let  me  show  you  what  a 
woman's  wit  can  do. 

Puff!     I'm  up  again,  my  Deary,  flushed  a  bit 

and  somewhat  weary, 
With  my  wedding  snow-flake  bonnet  worse 

for  many  a  sooty  knock; 
But  be  glad  you  let  me  wheedle,  since,  an 

icicle  for  needle, 


POEMS  OF   CHRISTMAS  IO3 

Threaded  with  the  last  pale  moonbeam,  I 
have  darned  the  laddie's  sock. 

Then  I  tucked  a  paint-box  in  it  ('twas  no  easy 

task  to  win  it 
From  the  Artist  of  the  Autumn  Leaves)  and 

frost-fruits  white  and  sweet, 
With  the  toys  your  pocket  misses — oh!  and 

kisses  upon  kisses 

To  cherish  safe  from  evil  paths  the  mother 
less  small  feet. 

Chirrup !  chirrup !     There's  a  patter  of  soft 

footsteps  and  a  clatter 
Of  child  voices.     Speed  it,  reindeer,  up  the 

sparkling  Arctic  Hill! 
Merry  Christmas,  little    people!      Joy-bells 

ring  in  every  steeple, 

And  Goody's  gladdest  of  the  glad.     I've 
had  my  own  sweet  will. 


104  FAIRY  GOLD 

SANTA'S  STOCKING 

DAME  SNOW  has  been  knitting  all  day 
With  needles  of  crystal  and  pearl 
To  make  a  big,  beautiful  stocking 
For  Santa,  her  merriest  son ; 
And  now  in  some  wonderful  way 
She  has  hung  it,  by  twist  and  by  twirl, 
On  the  tip  of  the  moon,  and  sits  rocking, 
Old  mother,  her  day's  work  done. 

How  long  and  how  empty  it  flaps, 
Like  a  new,  white  cloud  in  the  sky ! 
The  stars  gleam  above  it  for  candles ; 
But  who  is  to  fill  it  and  trim? 
Dame  Snow  in  her  rocking-chair  naps. 
When  Santa  comes  home  by  and  by, 
Will  he  find — O  scandal  of  scandals ! — 
No  Christmas  at  all  for  him? 

Dear  Saint  of  the  reindeer  sleigh, 
At  his  tink-a-link-tinkle-a-link, 


POEMS  OF   CHRISTMAS  1 05 

The  evergreens  blossom  with  tapers ; 
'Tis  Christmas  by  all  the  clocks; 
And  wherever  he  calls,  they  say, 
The  most  polished  andirons  wink, 
The  sulkiest  chimney  capers, 
And  Baby  kicks  off  its  socks. 

His  pack  is  bursting  with  toys ; 
The  dollies  cling  round  his  neck; 
And  sleds  come  slithering  after 
As  he  takes  the  roofs  at  a  run. 
Blithe  lover  of  girls  and  boys, 
Bonbons  he  pours  by  the  peck; 
Holidays,  revels  and  laughter, 
Feasting  and  frolic  and  fun. 

Who  would  dream  that  his  kind  heart  aches 
— Heart  shaped  like  a  candied  pear, 
Sweet  heart  of  our  housetop  rover — 
For  the  homes  where  no  carols  resound, 


106  FAIRY  GOLD 

For  the  little  child  that  wakes 
To  a  hearth  all  cold  and  bare, 
For  Santa,  his  white  world  over, 
Finds  Christmas  doesn't  go  round! 


Dame  Snow  has  been  knitting  all  day 
With  needles  of  crystal  and  pearl 
To  make  a  big,  beautiful  stocking 
For  Santa,  her  busiest  son; 
And  now  in  some  wonderful  way 
She  has  hung  it,  by  twist  and  by  twirl, 
On  the  tip  of  the  moon,  and  sits  rocking, 
Old  mother,  her  day's  work  done. 

Let   us  bring   the   dear    Saint    from    our 

store 

Fair  gifts  wrapped  softly  in  love ; 
Let  all  gentle  children  come  flocking, 
Glad  children  whose  Christmas  is  sure ; 


POEMS    OF   CHRISTMAS 

Let  us  bring  him  more  treasures  and  more, 
While  the  star-candles  glisten  above, 
For  whatever  we  put  in  his  stocking, 
Santa  Claus  gives  to  the  poor. 


LOLITA'S  BETHLEHEM 

SEVEN  shining  sunsets 

Lead  to  Holy  Night, 
And  Lolita's  Bethlehem 

Grows  with  her  delight. 
Lola,  Lolita, 

Little  Spanish  lass ! 
Blithely  for  Lolita 

The  seven  sunsets  pass. 

Under  Moorish  arches 

Trips  a  timid  tread. 
First  we  give  the  Holy  Child 

With  the  haloed  head, 


108  FAIRY  GOLD 

And  demure  Lolita 

Makes  her  small  salaam, 

Cherishing  the  Baby 
In  a  roseleaf  palm. 

Blue  and  gold  the  sunset 

On  our  second  eve; 
A  Madonna  blue  and  gold 

Lifted  hands  receive; 
And  Lolita  scampers, 

With  a  shout  of  joy, 
To  carry  Mary  Mother 

"To  her  little  boy." 

Frolic  of  light  footsteps 
Dancing  to  the  door; 

Who  is  waiting  on  a  staff, 
Figure  bowed  and  hoar? 

Merrily  Lolita, 

Black  eyes  mischievous, 


POEMS   OF   CHRISTMAS  109 

Kisses  old  Saint  Joseph 
Before  she  kisses  us. 


It  is  not  Lolita, 

Sweetheart,  who  will  scorn 
For  her  Holy  Family 

Cow  with  crumpled  horn. 
Lola,  Lolita, 

Hugs  it  close  and  vows 
That  it  is  her  darling, 

The  caramel  of  cows. 

Seven  shining  sunsets, 

One  by  one  they  pass. 
From  a  pearly  twilight  comes 

Humble  Brother  Ass. 
Lovingly  Lolita 

Teaches  him  his  part : 
"Kneel  beside  St.  Joseph, 

Donkey  of  my  heart. " 


HO  FAIRY  GOLD 

Next  a  china  shepherd 

With  two  curly  sheep, 
But  Lolita  hushes  them 

Ere  she  lets  them  peep 
At  the  Christ-Child,  shedding 

Tenderness  and  awe, 
Where  He  slumbers  softly 

On  a  wisp  of  straw. 

Last  of  seven  sunsets ! 

Hardly  can  we  wait 
For  Christmas  Eve  to  enter  in 

By  that  gleaming  gate; 
While  Lolita's  angel, 

Balanced  on  a  star, 
Acrobat  with  lilac  wings, 

Plays  a  pink  guitar. 

Blissfully  Lolita, 
Careful  not  to  hurt, 


POEMS   OF   CHRISTMAS  III 

Gathers  all  the  images 

In  her  little  skirt. 
Lola!    Lolita! 

To  bed  she  carries  them, 
For  to-night  all  childhood 

Sleeps  in  Bethlehem. 


Poems  of  Sunshine 


SUNSHINE 

THE  sun  rode  high,  and  the  dear  green  Earth 
Was  stirred  in  her  motherly  heart  with  mirth ; 
And  to  every  blossom  and  dancing  spray 
She  gave  the  grace  of  a  holiday. 

And  oh !  what  laughter  the  silver  breeze 
Shook  from  the  leaves  of  the  poplar  trees ! 
How  the  streamlet,  with  all  her  sweet  blue 

eyes, 
Smiled  on  the  sport  of  the  dragon-flies ! 

The  flashing  humming-bird  deeply  dipped 
In  the  yellow  tulip ;  the  blithe  bee  sipped 
From  the  purple,  delicate  cups  of  wine 
That  he  found  on  the  morning-glory  vine. 

The  smallest  fly  and  the  least  red  thorn 

Were  fair  with  summer  and  fresh  with  morn, 
"5 


Il6  FAIRY  GOLD 

When  who  should  chance  on  the  sunlit  place, 
But  a  little  girl  with  a  sulky  face? 

Through  all  the  music  and  merriment 
She  came,  to  trouble  the  world's  content; 
And  wheresoever  her  feet  did  pass, 
A  shadow  fell  on  the  gleaming  grass. 

She  leaned  out  over  the  rivulet, 

And  all  at  once  it  began  to  fret, 

And  wrinkled  its  waves  to  a  frown  like  that 

She  carried  under  her  broad-brimmed  hat. 

A  carpet  shaming  the  wealth  of  earls, 
Softer  than  satin  and  bright  with  pearls, 
She  crushed,  nor  heeded  the  spider's  grief, 
As  he  wiped  his  eyes  on  a  clover-leaf. 

'Twas  Saturday,  after  the  count  of  men ; 
But  the  simple  folk  of  meadow  and  glen, 
Clear  of  the  calendar's  restless  freak, 
Keep  seven  Sabbaths  in  every  week. 


POEMS  OF  SUNSHINE  117 

And  so  it  happened  that  through  the  dells 

A  soft  chime  floated  of  flower-bells, 

And  the  child  at  the  roots  of  a  tall,  white 

birch 
Came  on  the  worshipers  all  in  church. 

The  brook  was  an  organ,  passing  sweet; 
On  the  swaying  bough  was  the  choir  seat ; 
And  the  blue,  blue  heaven  bent  close  to  heed 
The  murmured  words  of  the  woodland  creed. 

The  Reverend  Buttercup  leaned  across 
A  velvet  pulpit  of  greenest  moss, 
And  preached  a  sermon,  in  still  small  voice, 
Whose  text  was  ever,  "Rejoice!  rejoice!" 

"Behold,"  quoth  he,  "how  our  Father's  care 
Hath  wrought  the  meadow  exceeding  fair ; 
And  my  jocund  heart  doth  overrun 
With  fragrant  summer  and  fervid  sun. 

"Behold,"  quoth  he,  "though  I  barely  fold 
In  my  tiny  chalice  a  drop  of  gold, 


Il8  FAIRY  GOLD 

How  I  yet  reflect  and,  reflecting,  praise 
The  sun  on  whom  I  have  set  my  gaze. 

"Bless  God,  "he  cried,  "with  a  sweet  perfume, 
With  tuneful  ripple  and  tinted  bloom, 
With  dance  of  grasses,  and  faces  bright, 
Bless  God,  the  Giver  of  all  delight ! " 

So  the  preacher  spake,  and  at  every  line 
Nodded  the  listening  columbine ; 
And  the  lady's  slipper  resolved  that  day 
To  walk  henceforth  in  the  upward  way. 

The  downy  owlet  forgot  to  blink; 

The  robin  heard,  and  the  bobolink, 

And  the  wild-brier  rose,  who  blushed  to  think 

Of  her  thorny  ways  till  her  buds  turned  pink. 

A  tremulous  tear,  like  a  dewdrop,  wet 
The  downcast  eye  of  the  violet ; 
And  her  prayer  of  trustful  penitence 
Was  wafted  to  heaven  for  frankincense. 


POEMS  OF   SUNSHINE 

And  the  little  lass  of  the  pouting  lip 
Smoothed,  with  a  rosy  finger-tip, 
From  her  tangled  forehead  the  dreary  frown, 
And  hid  her  face  in  her  ringlets  brown. 

But  she  peeped  from  between  the  wind-blown 

locks 

At  the  clink  of  the  contribution-box ; 
And  when  the  squirrel  came  down  the  aisle, 
In  his  acorn-cup  she  dropped  a  smile. 

Then  the  little  lass  of  the  laughing  lip 
They  welcomed  into  their  fellowship ; 
And  many  a  daisy  and  clover-stem 
Kissed  her  foot  and  her  garment's  hem. 

And  the  story  saith  that  forever  more 
On  her  soft  brown  tresses  the  maiden  wore 
A  crown  of  sunshine  this  side  of  heaven, 
And  she    kept    her    Sabbath    day    all    the 
seven. 


I2O  FAIRY  GOLD 

A  SONG  OF  RICHES 

WHAT  will  you  give  to  a  barefoot  lass, 
Morning  with  breath  like  wine  ? 

Wade,  bare  feet!     In  my  wide  morass 
Starry  marigolds  shine. 

Alms,  sweet  Noon,  for  a  barefoot  lass, 
With  her  laughing  looks  aglow ! 

Run,  bare  feet!    In  my  fragrant  grass 
Golden  buttercups  blow. 

Gift,  a  gift  for  a  barefoot  lass, 
O  twilight  hour  of  dreams  ! 

Rest,  bare  feet,  by  my  lake  of  glass, 
Where  the  mirrored  sunset  gleams. 

Homeward  the  weary  merchants  pass, 
With  the  gold  bedimmed  by  care. 

Little  they  wis  that  the  barefoot  lass 
Is  the  only  millionaire. 


POEMS   OF   SUNSHINE  121 

SONG  OF  THE  SUNSHINE  CLUB 

"WHAT  shall  I  make  this  morning?" 

The  Sunshine  Angel  said. 
"Canary  birds  and  merry  words 

And  a  yellow  crocus  bed. " 

Chorus: 
The  Sunshine  Angel,  dear  to  God, 

Goes  singing  on  his  way, 
Touching  the  dawn  with  a  daffodil  rod 

To  make  a  happy  day. 

The  wings  of  the  Sunshine  Angel 

They  brushed  the  willow- trees 
And  goldfinch  flocks  and  weather-cocks 

And  grumble-bumblebees. 

Chorus:  The  Sunshine  Angel,  etc. 

"What  shall  I  make  this  morning?" 

The  Sunshine  Angel  said. 
"A  marigold  swamp,  a  butterfly  romp, 

And  the  curls  on  a  baby's  head. " 


122  FAIRY  GOLD 

Chorus:  The  Sunshine  Angel,  etc. 

The  smile  of  the  Sunshine  Angel 

Went  into  a  barberry  shrub, 
A  meadowlark's  throat  with  its  golden  note, 

And  the  hearts  of  the  Sunshine  Club. 

Chorus: 
The  Sunshine  Angel,  dear  to  God, 

Goes  singing  on  his  way, 
Touching  the  dawn  with  a  daffodil  rod 

To  make  a  happy  day. 


Poems  of  Vacation 


123 


VACATION 

I  HAVE  shut  my  books  and  hidden  my  slate 
And  tossed  my  satchel  across  the  gate. 
My  school  is  out  for  a  summer  of  rest, 
And  now  for  the  schoolroom  I  love  the  best ! 

My  schoolroom  lies  on  the  meadow  wide, 
Where  under  the  clover  the  sunbeams  hide, 
Where  the  long  vines   cling  to   the   mossy 

bars 
And  the  daisies  twinkle  like  fallen  stars ; 

Where  clusters  of  buttercups  gild  the  scene 
Like  showers  of  gold-dust  thrown  over  the 

green, 
And  the  wind's  flying  footsteps  are  traced,  as 

they  pass, 

By  the  dance  of  the  sorrel  and  dip  of  the  grass. 
125 


126  FAIRY  GOLD 

My  lessons  are  written  in  clouds  and  trees, 
And  no  one  whispers,  except  the  breeze, 
That  sometimes  blows,  from  a  secret  place, 
A  stray,  sweet  blossom  against  my  face. 

My  school-bell  rings  in  the  rippling  stream, 
That  hides  itself,  like  a  schoolboy's  dream, 
Under  the  shadow  and  out  of  sight, 
But  laughing  still  for  its  own  delight. 

My  schoolmates  there  are  the  birds  and  bees, 
And  the  saucy  squirrel,  more  dull  than  these, 
For  he  only  learns,  in  all  the  weeks, 
How  many  chestnuts  will  fill  his  cheeKs. 

My  teacher  is  patient,  and  never  yet 
A  lesson  of  hers  did  I  once  forget, 
For  wonderful  lore  do  her  lips  impart, 
And  all  her  lessons  are  learned  by  heart. 

Oh,  come !  oh,  come !  or  we  shall  be  late, 
And  Autumn  will  fasten  the  golden  gate. 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  1 27 

Of  all  the  schoolrooms  in  east  or  west, 
The  school  of  Nature  I  love  the  best. 


WIDE  AWAKE  AND  FAST  ASLEEP 
(One  Side  of  the  Question) 

A  BLITHE  Summer  Day  came  out  of  the  east, 

And  a  rare  little  lad  was  he. 
His  lips  were  red  from  a  strawberry  feast, 

And  his  eyes  were  blue  as  the  sea. 
His  yellow  hair  was  blown  by  the  breeze, 

Like  grass  in  a  windy  place. 
He  had  torn  his  jacket  in  climbing  trees, 

And  he  laughed  all  over  his  face. 

He  danced  in  the  elm,  on  the  tip-top  spray 
Where  the  nest  of  the  oriole  swings, 

Till  the  birdies  had  winked  the  sleep  away 
All  under  their  gleaming  wings. 


128  FAIRY  GOLD 

He  shook  the  stems  of  the  lilies  tall, 
While  they  nodded  in  soft  surprise 

And  rubbed  with  their  fingers    white    and 

small 
The  dreams  from  their  golden  eyes. 

The  daisy  hastened  to  wash  her  face 

In  a  drop  of  the  crystal  dew, 
And  each  green  leaf  of  the  woodland  lace 

The  kiss  of  the  sunshine  knew. 
The  squirrel  chattered  and  combed  his  tail 

That  curls  up  over  his  spine, 
And  the  pinkest  clover  turned  almost  pale 

When  the  village  clock  struck  nine. 

For  two  little  boys  in  two  little  beds 

Lay  dozing  the  morning  long, 
Though  the  sun  shone  in  on  their  tangled 
heads 

And  the  birds  had  ended  their  song. 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  129 

"  O  dear !   O  dear ! "  sighed  the  Summer  Day, 

"What  lazy  small  boys  I  see! 
I  wish — I  wish  they  would  wake  and  play 

With  a  bright  little  Day  like  me. " 

THE  SUN  OUT  OF  TEMPER 
(The  Other  Side  of  the  Question) 

"On!  I  say  and  declare  that  it's  really  not 

fair 

For  the  Day-Star  to  call  me  so  soon ! " 
Cried  the  Sun,  very  red,  as  he  jumped  out  of 

bed 

And  made  up  a  face  at  the  Moon. 
So  he  climbed  the  blue  skies  with  his  thumbs 

in  his  eyes 

And  his  hair  tumbled  over  his  head, 
And  he  gave  a  great  yawn  in  the  face  of  the 

Dawn, 
Which  was  very  bad  manners,  she  said. 


I3O  FAIRY  GOLD 

Then  the  Sun  was  ashamed  to  hear  himself 

blamed, 

And  being  ashamed  made  him  cross. 
So  he  withered  the  wheat  with  his  arrows  of 

heat 

And  trampled  the  dew  from  the  moss; 
And  he  fumed  and  he  fussed  till  the  toad  in  the 

dust 

Did  envy  the  frog  in  the  pool 
And  swore  he  would  doat  on  a  pond-lily 

boat 
Much  more  than  a  mushroom  stool. 


The    flowers    were    faint,    the    trees    made 

complaint, 

And  the  little  leaves  teased  for  a  drink, 
But   the   Sun  only  stared,  for  all  that  he 

cared 
Was  to  glower  with  never  a  wink; 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  13! 

Till  it  happened  one  day  that  the  World  went 

away, 

The  World  and  his  Wife  to  remain 
A  week  and  no  more  with  their  Aunt  by  the 

shore. 
Said  the  Sun :  "  It  is  time  for  a  rain. " 

Said  the  Sun:  "I  repent,  and  my  anger  is 
spent. 

I  must  cry  seven  days  at  the  least. " 
So  he  tied  up  his  head  in  a  shabby  white  shred 

That  he  tore  from  a  cloud  in  the  east. 
From  fog  thick  as  cloth  he  stirred  him  a  broth 

To  save  him  a  pain  in  the  side, 
And  then  he  sat  down  in  a  dismal  gray  gown, 

And  oh,  for  the  cry  that  he  cried! 

Sobbed  the  penitent  Sun:  "  I  have  only  begun. 

I  shall  shed  many  tears  for  the  loss 
Of  my  temper.     I'll  shiver  and  cry  like  a  river, 

I'm  so  sorry  I  ever  was  cross. 


132  FAIRY  GOLD 

But  my  patience  was  tried  and  the  cause  I'll 
confide, 

That  early  birds  all  may  take  warning, 
For  in  summer  'tis  true  my  hot  temper  is  due 

To  my  rising  too  soon  in  the  morning. " 

SOMEBODY  KNOWS 

Hey,  for  the  glint  of  the  wild-brier  rose, 
In  the  cool,  green  depths  of  the  forest! 

And  hey  for  the  haunt  that  Somebody  knows, 
When  the  noontide  sun  is  sorest! 

Soft  through  the  treetops  the  south  wind  goes, 
With  footsteps  learned  of  the  clouds,  suppose; 
And  playing  at  sentry  the  rose-bay  glows 
Amid  the  ferns  of  the  forest. 

Over  their  sylvan  porticoes 
Squirrels  gossip  with  sleepy  crows — 
The  only  birds  that  can  talk  in  prose — 
Above  the  ferns  of  the  forest. 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  133 

The  sweet-bay,  crushed  for  a  couch,  bestows 
Drowsy  fragrance,  and  virtue  flows 
From  the  shadowy  pines,  till  eyelids  close 
Amid  the  ferns  of  the  forest. 

Drop  your  budget  of  childish  woes 

(The  wind,  while  you  dream,  will  be  off  with 

those), 

And  come  where  never  a  thorn  tree  grows 
Amid  the  ferns  of  the  forest. 

Hey,  for  the  glint  of  the  wild-brier  rose, 
In  the  cool,  green  depths  of  the  forest! 

And  hey  for  the  haunt  that  Somebody  knows, 
When  the  noontide  sun  is  sorest! 


THE  RIVULET 

MORNING  in  roseate  lines 
Glimmers  beyond  the  pines. 


134  FAIRY  GOLD 

Blithely  the  blackbird  sings, 
Night  on  his  dusky  wings. 
But  see !  as  he  flirts  them  so, 
'Tis  the  sunrise  glints  below, 
And  the  joy  of  breaking  day 
Rings  in  his  roundelay. 
But  bolder,  merrier  yet, 
The  song  of  the  rivulet. 

Mine  is  the  path  to  the  sea. 
Bird  and  blossom  and  bee 
Wish  me  well  as  I  pass. 
Rock  and  tangle  of  grass 
Fret  my  waves  as  I  run. 
Still  in  shadow  and  sun 
Onward  I  flow  to  be 
One  with  the  silver  sea. 

Noon  in  the  azure  sky. 
Even  the  twinkling  fly 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  135 

Faints  on  the  violet's  lip. 
Low  where  the  alders  dip 
Over  the  brook  and  lean 
To  ruffle  the  ripples '  sheen, 
A  bluebird  dreamily  croons 
Snatches  of  sleepy  tunes. 
But  softer,  drowsier  yet, 
The  song  of  the  rivulet. 

Mine  is  the  path  to  the  sea,  etc. 

Sunset  flames  in  the  west. 
Flowers  are  folded  to  rest. 
The  hermit  thrushes  invoke 
God's  peace  on  the  woodland  folk, 
While  high  from  the  ancient  oak, 
Each  in  his  scarlet  cloak, 
The  tanagers,  sparks  of  fire, 
Vary  the  vesper  choir. 


136  FAIRY  GOLD 

But  sweeter,  holier  yet, 
The  song  of  the  rivulet. 

Mine  is  the  path  to  the  sea,  etc. 


FAIR  WEATHER 

THE  ship  had  rounded  Sandy  Hook 

With  the  blue-eyed  peep  of  day; 
But  while  full  many  a  joyous  look 

Was  straining  up  the  bay, 
On  the  steerage  deck  together 

A  boy  and  a  woman  stood, 
Who  shrank  from  the  golden  weather 

In  wildered,  waif -like  mood. 

She  sighed:  "This  sun  is  sair  to  bide, 
These  skies  are  na  the  same 

As  those  aboon  the  Firth  o'  Clyde 
An'  the  hills  of  our  island  hame. " 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  137 

And  the  flash  of  the  seagull's  feather 
Was  one  with  the  creaming  foam 

Through     her    tears    for    the    soft,     gray 

weather 
And  the  brooding  mists  of  home. 

The  child  laid  cheek  upon  her  hand : 

"  Hoots,  mither!  dinna  greet. 
Had  I  ae  shell  frae  Arran  sand, 

An'  a  burnie,  ripplin'  sweet, 
An*  bracken  an'  purple  heather 

An'  a  bittie  o'  blossomin'  thorn, 
I  wad  mak'  ye  bonny  Scotch  weather 

To  brichten  your  heart  the  morn. " 

That  nestling  cheek  upon  her  hand, 

It  soothed  her  tears  to  smiles. 
She  leaned  out  toward  the  stranger  land 

As  to  her  native  isles, 


138  FAIRY  GOLD 

And  said:  '"Twa  hearts  thegether, 
Tho'  skies  be  strange  abuve, 

Can  mak'  their  ain  gude  weather, 
A'  out  o'  tender  luve. " 


NUTTING  SONG 

COME  hither,   come  hither,   O  laddies   and 

lassies ! 

The  daisies  have  folded  their  frills, 
But  the  purple-eyed  asters  still  peep  from  the 

grasses, 

And  the  golden-rod  shines  on  the  hills. 
Though  the  tulips  have  faded,  the  maples  are 

glowing 

With  many  a  marvelous  hue, 
And  deep  in  the  woods  where  the  brown  leaves 

are  blowing, 
The  chestnuts  are  waiting  for  you. 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  139 

We've  dreamed  of  your  coming,  at  even  and 

matin; 

We've  dreamed  of  your  coming,  at  noon ; 
In  our  snug  little  cradles  all  cushioned  with 

satin, 

While  the  wind  sang  our  lullaby  tune. 
While  the  wind  rocked  our  cradles,  we  longed 

for  the  showers 

And  were  glad  of  the  sunshine  and  dew 
That  ripened  our  hearts  for  the  blithe  autumn 

hours, 
That  sweetened  our  kernels  for  you. 

Oh,  hither!  come  hither!  for  keen  the  stars 

glistened 
Last    night,     and    the    woodlands    were 

crossed 
By  him  for  whose  step  the  wych-hazel  bush 

listened 
And  the  barberries  waited, — Jack  Frost. 


I4O  FAIRY  GOLD 

He  rifled  our  caskets,  the  prickle-set  caskets, 
And  earthward  the  jewels  he  threw. 

The   squirrels   are  rilling   their   queer   little 

baskets — 
Oh,  come !  we  are  waiting  for  you. 

PLUCKING  THE  GOOSE 

ROBIN  beneath  the  barberry  bush  had  turned 

his  bill  aside 
From  the  ripest  ruby  cluster  to  watch  Gray 

Squirrel  hide 
An  acorn  in  a  garner  under  fallen  leaves  that 

spoke 
In  rustling  whispers  each  to  each  of  lonely 

Mother  Oak; 

When  that  Old  Woman  in  the  skies  whose 

hair  and  robes  float  loose 
Selected    from    her  cloudy  flock    the   very 

whitest  goose, 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  14! 

And  plucked  it  with  such  diligence  that  bits 

of  flping  down 
Folded  in  a  feather-quilt  the  country  and  the 

town. 

We   children   hardly   stirred   that   night    at 

mamma's  candle-kiss, 
Because  in  dreamland,  far  away,  we  heard  the 

white  goose  hiss. 
"Wind    and    frost!"  our   elders  said,  when 

morning  came  to  pass, 
But  'twas  the  goose  whose  angry  claws  had 

scratched  the  window-glass. 


A  WINTER  DAY 

THE  sun  shines  bright,  but  stoutly  still  the 

bitter  north  winds  blow, 
And   thin   brown  leaves   in   elfin   dance   go 

whirling    on    the   snow. 


142  FAIRY   GOLD 

The   ruffled   bluejay   silently   peers   from   a 

naked  tree, 
But   gaily   rings   the   gallant   note  of  little 

chickadee. 

The  grown-ups  hug  the  fireplace  and  shiver 

when  they  cast 
Looks  over  shoulder  at  the  pines  that  strain 

against  the  blast. 
The  postman,  stamping  through  the  drifts, 

meets  no  one  on  the  road 
But   two   small   boys   who   bend   and  pull, 

rejoicing  in  their  load. 

For  Baby,  tucked  all  tight  and  warm  within  a 

grocery  box, 
Claps  mites  of  scarlet-mittened  hands  to  see 

the  junco  flocks 
Rise  with  a  flirt  of  feathery  white  before  her 

wagonette. 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  143 

To  her  blue  eyes  this  winter  world  is  best  of 
playrooms  yet. 

OUT  TO  PLAY 

WONDERFUL  world, 
Bounded  by  low  stone  walls; 
Snowdrops  curled 
Tight  in  bonnets  and  shawls; 
Stump  for  a  throne 
Royally  rubied  and  pearled, 
Moss-overgrown ; 
Beautiful  world ! 

Great  sycamore, 
Spotted  with  lichen  rust, 
Branches  hoar 
Shaken  by  rainy  gust, 
Giant  that  stands 
Grieving  for  sins  of  yore, 


144  FAIRY  GOLD 

Wringing  his  hands; 
Poor  sycamore ! 

Scamper  of  leaves 
After  the  fairy  folk, 
Birchbark  sleeves, 
Fringes  of  frosted  cloak, 
Tempting  us  on 
Races  the  wild  wind  weaves, 
To  find  them  gone, 
Fairies  and  leaves ! 

Under  the  tread, 

Oh,  how  the  colors  push ! 

Rose-twigs  red, 

Tangles  of  burning  bush, 

Rag-carpet  gay 

With  saffron  and  lilac  shred, 

Rainbows  at  play 

Under  the  tread  ! 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  145 

Crinkle  of  ice 

Over  the  meadow  stream 

In  a  trice 

Melted  by  sunny  gleam ; 

Freeing  brown  reeds 

Caught  in  that  crystal  vise; 

Briers  and  weeds 

Locked  in  the  ice ! 

Ha,  how  they  dance, 
Withered  and  twisted  and  thin! 
One  more  chance 
Theirs  for  a  madcap  spin ! 
Nothing  so  old 

That  the  sun  looks  at  it  askance! 
Tatters  and  gold, 
Whirling  in  dance! 


Ware  the  witch! 

Ware  the  bramblebush  hag ! 
zo 


146  FAIRY  GOLD 

Or  she'll  twitch, 
Twitch  you  into  her  bag, 
Squeeze  you  and  cram 
Into  a  lump  of  rich 
Blackberry  jam ! 
Ware  the  witch ! 

Watch  for  the  three, 
Bluebird,  robin  and — hark  I 
Kon-quer-ree! 
There  he  flies  like  a  spark, 
Lord  of  the  swamp, 
Red-shouldered  blackbird — see! 
Off  on  a  romp, 
First  of  the  three! 

Oh,  isn't  March 

Merriest  month  of  the  year ! 

Blithe  and  arch, 

Shy  and  saucy  and  dear ! 


POEMS  OF  VACATION  147 

Hide-and-seek 
Playing  in  alder  and  larch ; 
Pinching  the  cheek, 
Rogue  of  a  March ! 

THROUGH    THE    GOLDS    AND    THE 
GREENS  OF  SPRING 

THROUGH  the  golds  and  the  greens  of  spring, 
The  whites  and  the  pinks  of  May, 

Chasing  a  bluebird's  wing, 
Off  on  a  holiday. 

How  lucky  the  gypsies  are 

With  holidays  all  in  a  row, 
And  never  a  lamp  but  a  star, 
And  ever  a  road  to  go ! 

Dear  oak  with  a  tasseled  cap, 
Would  you  hold  it  over  me  while 

I  take  three  winks  of  a  nap, 
For  I've  traveled  almost  a  mile? 


148  FAIRY  GOLD 

Life  is  as  sweet  as  a  rose, 

And  blithe  as  a  bobolink's  song, 

And  don't  you  perhaps  suppose 
That  I'll  never  again  do  wrong? 


Poems  of  Flowers 


149 


A  TULIP  TEA-PARTY 

TULIPS,  twenty-lips 
In  the  glistening  grass, 
Elfin  ladies  at  their  tea, 
Gossiping  of  bird  and  bee 
In  the  listening  grass. 

Don't  tell  Idon't  tell! 

But  my  shining  cup 

Was  filled  with  gold  by  Neighbor  Sun, 

And  they  say  before  the  Spring  is  done 

He  'will  drink  it  up. 

Tulips,  twenty-lips 
'Neath  the  bending  oak 
Straining  all  his  buds  to  hear 
Tulip  voices  fine  and  clear, 
Old,  befriending  oak. 


152  FAIRY  GOLD 

Don't  tell!  don't  tell! 

Why  my  cup  is  red. 

Hush!  let's  whisper.     It  was  Sir 

Flaming  Scarlet-Tanager, 

And  a  plume  he  shed. 

Tulips,  twenty-lips 
In  the  swaying  wind 
Ever  bowing,  tiptoeing 
With  a  note-book  under  wing, 
That  betraying  wind ! 

Don't  tell!  don't  tell! 

Touch  my  petal — so! 

This  my  teacup,  seafoam-white, 

Lady  Moon  filled  up  last  night 

With  a  dream  of  snow. 

Tulips,  twenty-lips, 
While  the  birds  fly  over, 
Chattering  and  taking  tea, 


POEMS  OF  FLOWERS  153 

Never  guessing  that  to  me 
Tulip  words  fly  over! 

Don't  tell  Bluebell! 
Don't  tell  Bobolink! 
But  the  Baby,  toddling  by, 
Kissed  my  cup,  and  that  is  why 
I'm  so  sweet  and  pink. 

DAFFYDOWNDILLIES 

DAFFYDOWNDILLIES  are  not  lilies, 

Lilies  angel- white, 

But  they  catch  the  stars  that  the  thunder 
jars 

From  the  coronet  of  night. 

Daffy downdillies  are  not  lilies, 

Easter  lilies  tall, 

But  their  hearts  have  won  the  smile  of  the 
sun, 

And  butterflies  come  to  call. 


154  FAIRY  GOLD 

Daffydowndillies  are  not  lilies. 

Would  that  I  were  you ! 
But  since  I'm  not,  I  will  love  my  lot, 

And  make  it  lovely,  too. 


WITCHCRAFT 

THERE'S  a  witchcraft  in  the  May, 

Bluebirds  say, 

For  'tis  then  the  pansies  wise 

Give  the  garden  a  surprise 

By  changing  into  ranging  butterflies. 

Who  has  seen  them,  wing  on  wing, 

Fluttering, 

Purple,  orange,  lilac,  brown, 

On  the  road  to  Rainbow  Town, 

Where  the  petal-people  love  to  settle  do.vn? 

Should  you  meet  them,  do  not  snap 
Off  your  cap 


POEMS  OF  FLOWERS  155 

With  a  prisoner  in  view ; 

Leave  them  to  the  air  and  dew, 

Else  the  garden  will  not  lightly  pardon  you. 

THE   RAINBOW   PATH 

THE  rain  it  rained  a  weary  while, 

But  when  the  clouds  took  flight, 
The  setting  sun  flashed  back  a  smile. 

(Good-night,  dear  sun,  good-night!) 
And  from  the  far  horizon's  breast 
An  arching  rainbow  sprang  to  rest 
Its  hither  tip  on  mountain  crest, 

A  bridge  of  colors  seven. 
Rainbow, 
I  know 

Thou  art  the  path  to  Heaven. 

The  flowers  that  laughed  by  April  rills 
And  made  the  summer  bright 

Have  vanished  from  the  autumn  hills. 
(Good-night,  dear  sun,  good-night!) 


156  FAIRY  GOLD 

For  blossom-spirits  fresh  and  fair 
Are  wafted  by  the  gentle  air 
To  bloom  above  in  beauty  rare 
And  weave  the  colors  seven. 
Rainbow, 
I  know 
Thou  art  the  path  to  Heaven. 


And  when  along  that  gleaming  way 

We  fare  in  sandals  white 
Beyond  the  golden  gates  of  day, 

(Good-night,  dear  sun,  good-night !) 
We'll  love  the  blossoms  as  we  go 
The  more  because  on  earth  below 
They  lit  the  fields,  ere  called  to  glow 

Within  the  colors  seven. 
Rainbow, 
I  know 

Thou  art  the  path  to  Heaven. 


POEMS  OF  FLOWERS  157 

SANDALPHON'S  ROSEBUDS 

IN  the  herald  hush  of  even, 

Spent  with  ecstasy  of  praising, 
From  the  starry  gate  of  heaven 

Angels  twain  were  earthward  gazing, 
And  their  speech,  each  to  each, 

Was  a  wordless  music-flow ; 
And  the  love-light  of  their  eyes 
Thrilled  the  sunset-colored  skies 

To  a  clearer  glow. 

Hush !  they  cease  their  soft  conferring, 

Rapt  in  looks  of  gladsome  greeting, 
For  the  lower  air  is  stirring 

Under  wings  of  ample  beating; 
And  behold !  plumed  with  gold 

Mounts  Sandalphon,  he  who  bears 
Mystic  blossoms  to  the  throne, 
Blossoms  that  on  earth  are  known 

As  the  breath  of  prayers. 


158  FAIRY  GOLD 

Swift  they  scan  with  earnest  glances 

All  his  sheaf  from  twilight  hour, 
Lilies  white  of  saintly  trances, 

Sorrow's  purple  passion-flower; 
But  they  smile  softly  while 

Close  against  his  heart  they  see 
Dewy  rosebuds,  gathered  where 
Children  lift  the  voice  of  prayer 

At  a  mother's  knee; 

Prayers  of  childish  faith,  confiding 

In  the  Gentle  Shepherd's  keeping, 
Asking  for  His  daily  guiding, 

For  His  watch  above  their  sleeping, 
Rosebud  prayers  the  angel  bears 

Tenderly  past  stars  and  suns 
Unto  Him  who  loveth  these 
Shy,  enfolded  fragrances, 

Lord  of  little  ones. 


Poems  of  Fur  and  Feathers 


159 


GRANDSIRE  SQUIRREL  GRAY 

GRANDSIRE  Squirrel  Gray 

Is  a  millionaire  of  nuts ; 

And  when  the  snow  begins  to  blow, 

His  castle  door  he  shuts. 

Behind  that  door,  they  say, 

Lord  of  the  hollow  tree, 

He  dwells  in  the  dark,  a  patriarch 

With  all  his  family,— 

Shadow-Tail  and  Leafy- Veil, 
Bead-Eyes,  Cracker,  Hush, 
Treetop-Leaper,  Treasure-Keeper, 
Crunch-in-a-Crolch  and  Plush. 

The  oak  is  mother-of-pearl, 
Frosted  on  trunk  and  limb, 
An  icy  trapeze  for  the  chickadees, 

But  what  is  that  to  him? 
ii  161 


162  FAIRY  GOLD 

So  his  tail  has  room  to  curl 

Up  over  his  furry  back, 

And  his  hickories  last  till  winter's  past, 

What  may  a  squirrel  lack? 

But  the  seeds  are  crisp  and  sweet 

In  the  cones  on  the  snowy  pine ; 

There  are  berries  red  as  a  woodpecker's  head 

At  a  club  where  he  likes  to  dine ; 

So  forth  on  scampery  feet 

Goes  Grandsire  Squirrel  Gray, 

And  his  family  wonder  what  forest  plunder 

Will  come  home  in  his  cheeks  to-day, — 

For  Scud  and  Run-the-Rail, 
Wary,  Bask-in-the-Sun, 
Chir-Chir-Chir  and  Bite-a-Burr, 
Pelt-you-with-Shells-for-Fun . 

Into  his  hole  of  holes 

He  plunges  down  pell-mell 


FUR  AND  FEATHERS  163 

With  a  speed  that  vouches  for  empty  pouches, 

And  Grandam  scolds  him  well; 

But  over  the  acorn  bowls 

What  glorious  table-talk 

Of  skurry-escape  from  the  swooping  shape 

Of  a  fierce,  red-shouldered  hawk ! 


Of  the  dash  to  the  nearest  stump, 

Of  the  ambushed  foe  beneath, 

Of  the  breathless  rush  through  the  underbrush 

In  front  of  a  fox's  teeth ! 

And  how  the  small  hearts  thump, 

And  glitters  each  round  black  eye, 

While  the  baffled  fox  tries  all  the  locks, 

And  the  hawk  screams  up  the  sky, 

Scaring  Tease-a-Snail, 

Spry  and  Rustle  and  Puck, 

Drink-the-Dew  and  Whisk  and  Whew, 

Live-by -his-W its  and  Luck. 


1 64  FAIRY  GOLD 

When  the  terrible  wings  of  the  storm 

Buffet  the  shuddering  trees, 

On  cushion  of  moss  with  his  legs  across, 

Grandsire  takes  his  ease. 

In  the  midst  of  his  family,  warm 

As  a  chestnut  in  its  burr, 

What  does  he  care  for  the  stinging  air, 

Or  the  burden  that  breaks  the  fir  ? 

Though  hungry  woodpeckers  drum 

On  his  oak,  and  nuthatches  play 

At  acrobat  in  the  boughs,  what's  that 

To  dozy  Grandsire  Gray  ? 

The  chatterers  all  are  dumb, 

For  under  a  leafy  spread 

Each  squirrelkin  is  at  rest  within 

A  pine-needle  trundle-bed, — 

Twinkle  and  Give-you-Hail, 

Sit-on-a- Fence  and  Flirt, 

Gnaw-the-Rind  and  Race-with-the-Wind, 

Peep-through-the-Green  and  Pert. 


FUR  AND  FEATHERS  165 

When  the  Angel  of  Winter  Sleep 

Through  the  white  wood  passes  slow, 

Whispering  the  dream  of  spring 

And  tucking  close  the  snow, 

She  will  smile  to  find  in  this  deep 

Tree-hollow  a  cuddle  of  fur, 

Every    squirrel    at    rest    with    little    paws 

pressed 
On  a  heart  that  trusts  in  her. 

LITTLE    SHADOWTAIL 

WHERE  the  ancient  oak  droops  over 
Dewy  tufts  of  grass  and  clover, 

Through  its  blowing  leafy  sprays 

Sifting  light  in  careless  rays, 
Like  a  spendthrift  dropping  gold 
From  his  loose,  regardless  hold, 

Let  me  pause  and  bid  all  hail 

Unto  little  Shadowtail. 


166  FAIRY  GOLD 

Whist !  just  where  the  kingbird  dips, 
Spreading  wide  the  proud  white  tips 
Of  its  fanlike  tail, — just  there, 
Framed  within  his  doorway  fair, 
Buttercups  before  it  strown, 
Cloth  of  gold,  and  overgrown 
With  those  curly  fronds  for  veil, 
Sitteth  little  Shadowtail. 

Would  no  humbler  mansion  suit, 
But  within  the  gnarly  root 
Of  this  hoar,  historic  tree, 
Thou  must  gossip  with  the  bee, 
Peering  through  the  screening  ferns 
At  thy  neighbors*  wee  concerns, 
And  upon  the  stranger  rail, 
Shrewish  little  Shadowtail? 

Once  beneath  this  storied  oak 
Eliot  his  message  spoke, 


FUR  AND  FEATHERS  1 67 

And  the  Red  Men,  clustered  round, 
Knew  this  earth  for  holy  ground, 

Wondering  at  the  words  divine. 

Was  some  curious  sire  of  thine 
Mocking  then  the  preacher  pale 
From  thy  threshold,  Shadow  tail? 

He  the  sermon  deemed,  methinks, 
Dull  beside  the  bobolinks. 

'Tis  an  old,  old  quarrel,  that. 

Could  I  take  thy  squirrel-chat, 
And  thine  ears  receive  my  wit, 
Wisely  would  we  argue  it; 

Yet  shall  mighty  Truth  prevail 

Without  me  or  Shadowtail. 


PETERKIN 

THE  crown  of  cats,  who  trod  as  if 
Shod  in  a  moccasin. 


1 68  FAIRY  GOLD 

He  tested  his  milk  with  a  delicate  sniff, 
He  leapt  on  mice  like  a  hippogriff, 
And  no  wonder  at  all  that  Pendleton 
Thought  a  shadow  had  crossed  the  sun 
When  beneath  his  hand  lay  cold  and  stiff 
His  Peterkin. 

With  folded  paws  poor  pussy  lay, 

Mute  as  a  violin 

On  which  the  fiddler  forgets  to  play, 
And  his  little  master  to  grief  gave  way. 
"If  my  other  friends  should  die,"  wept  he, 
"  I  could  bear  it,  mamma,  for  I  should  see 
Them  all  again  in  heaven  some  day. 

—But  Peterkin!" 

Who  knows?  whatever  on  earth  is  sweet 

A  sweeter  life  may  win 
In  the  Paradise  garden,  incomplete 
Without  the  frolic  of  creature  feet. 
Where  our  lost  birds  trill,  and  our  lost  dogs  wait 


FUR  AND  FEATHERS  169 

To  welcome  us  in  at  the  dear  home  gate, 
Please  God,  where  the  loved  and  the  lovingmeet, 
Is  Peterkin. 


ROBIN'S  SECRET 

'Tis  the  blithest,  bonniest  weather  for  a  bird 

to  flirt  a  feather, 
For  a  bird  to  trill  and  warble,  all  his  wee 

red  breast  a-swell. 
I've  a  secret.     You  may  listen  till  your  blue 

eyes  dance  and  glisten, 
Little  maiden,  but  I'll  never,  never,  never, 
never  tell. 

You'll  find  no  more  wary  piper,  till  the  straw 
berries  wax  riper 

In  December  than  in  June — aha !  all  up  and 
down  the  dell, 

Where  my  nest  is  set,  for  certain,  with  a  pink 
and  snowy  curtain, 


I7O  FAIRY  GOLD 

East  or  west,  but  which  I'll  never,  never, 
never,  never  tell. 

You  may  prick  me  with  a  thistle,  if  you  ever 

hear  me  whistle 
How  my  brooding  mate,  whose  weariness 

my  carols  sweet  dispel, 

All  between  the  clouds  and  clover,   apple- 
blossoms  drooping  over, 
Twitters  low  that  I  must  never,   never, 
never,  never  tell. 

Oh,  I  swear  no  closer  fellow  stains  his  bill  in 

cherries  mellow. 

Tra  la  la!  and  tirra  lirra!      I'm  the  jaun 
tiest  sentinel, 
Perched  beside  my  jewel-casket,   where  lie 

hidden — don't  you  ask  it, 
For  of  those  three  eggs  I'll  never,  never, 
never,  never  tell. 


FUR  AND  FEATHERS 

Chirp!  chirp!  chirp!  alack!  for  pity!      Who 

hath  marred  my  merry  ditty  ? 
Who  hath  stirred  the  scented  petals,  peeping 

in  where  robins  dwell  ? 
Oh,  my  mate!     May  Heaven  defend  her! 

Little  maidens'  hearts  are  tender, 
And   I  never,   never,   never,  never,  never 
meant  to  tell. 


ON  A  RAMBLE 

COME  !  come !  come ! 

Follow,  lad,  with  me 
On  behind  the  stirring  drum 

Of  Captain  Bumblebee. 

Hush!  hush!  hush! 

Finger  on  the  lip ! 
Between  the  ferns  a  tiny  thrush 

Goes  running — skip,  skip,  skip. 


FAIRY  GOLD 

Look !  look !  look ! 

Did  ever  laddie  see 
Softer  nest  in  greener  nook 

With  birdies  one,  two,  three? 

Nay !  nay !  nay ! 

Curly-headed  thief! 
If  we  steal  the  brood  away, 

Who  will  heal  the  grief  ? 

Hear !  hear !  hear 

The  poor  brown  mother's  cries ! 
Now  blessings  on  the  gentle  tear 

That  dims  my  laddie's  eyes ! 

Come !  come !  come ! 

Not  one  wee  heart  shall  ache 
In  any  humblest  woodland  home 

For  mine  or  laddie's  sake. 


FUR  AND   FEATHERS  173 

A  MUSIC-LESSON 

Squeakity-squeak  in  the  poplar  trees. 

Such  a  comical  little  wheeze ! 

But  Father  Thrush  from  mellow  throat 

Flutes  again  his  forest-note 

That  hushes  every  breeze. 


To  that  melody  of  melodies 
An  echo  comes  like  a  feathered  sneeze. 
How  can  the  Hermit  Thrushes  dote 
On  such  a  beak ! 


But  Mother  Thrush  lets  no  one  tease. 
She  puts  her  Thrushlet  at  his  ease 
With  a  taste  of  the  plumpest  fly  afloat. 
Then  the  little  breast  begins  to  bloat, 
And  he  pipes,  as  proudly  as  you  please, 
Squeakity-squeak . 


174  FAIRY  GOLD 

THE  BIRD  HOTEL 

From  fall  to  spring 

'  Tis  a  little  thing 
To  spread  the  birds  good  cheer 

On  a  window  tray, 

Where  the  heart  may  play 
At  summer  all  the  year. 

Nuts,  if  you  please, 

For  the  chickadees, 
— Never  mind  about  napkins  and  cruet — 

But  they'll  doff  you,  perhaps, 

Their  cozy  black  caps 
For  a  lump  of  delectable  suet. 

An  elegant  guest 

In  white  dinner-vest 
May  put  them  to  flutter  and  flight, 

For  though  Nuthatch  says  dank, 

Intended  for  thank, 
No  chickadee  calls  him  polite. 


FUR  AND  FEATHERS  175 

A  superior  throne 

Is  a  marrow-bone 
For  a  woodpecker  potentate, 

Since  seldom  can  kings 

Eat  the  cushions  and  things 
That  embellish  their  chairs  of  state. 

The  blue  jay  will  seize 

On  fragments  of  cheese 
Like  a  story-book  pirate  on  gold, 

But  nothing  comes  ill 

To  his  catholic  bill, 
Though  his  blessing  sounds  more  like  a  scold. 

A  salad  of  seed 

Tree-sparrow  may  lead 
To  your  table,  when  stripped  is  his  thicket, 

Or  fox-sparrow  fine 

Whom  your  dainties  incline 
To  forfeit  his  Florida  ticket. 


176  FAIRY  GOLD 

Junco  trustfully  comes 
For  a  feast  of  crumbs, 

Our  snow-bird  in  storm-coat  drest, 
All  white  below, 
For  they  say,  who  know, 

God  painted  her  on  her  nest. 

And  if  courtesy  sends 
Them  odds  and  ends 

From  your  own  plate  for  variety, 
The  bows  and  bends 
Of  your  feathery  friends 

Would  grace  the  best  society. 

To  spring  from  fall 

Keep  open  hall, 
A  nd  the  birds  will  teach  each  care 

That  winter  brings 

The  way  of  wings, 
Escaping  up  the  air. 


Poems  of  Little  People 


177 


BABY  BETH 

ROGUISH  brown-eyed  glances, 

That's  our  Baby  Beth. 
Gypsy-shy  advances, 

That's  our  Baby  Beth. 
Quaintest  little  fancies 

Ever  borne  on  breath, 
Frolic-footed  dances, 

That's  our  Baby  Beth. 

Sunshine-tinted  tresses, 
That's  our  Baby  Beth. 

Dainty  bits  of  dresses, 
That's  our  Baby  Beth. 

Fearless  little  guesses 
Into  life  and  death, 

Roseleaf -lipped  caresses, 

That's  our  Baby  Beth. 
179 


180  FAIRY  GOLD 

BABY'S  BAGGAGE 

THE  train  is  ready.     Come  away 

And  let  your  labor  cease. 
Mama  has  packed  three  trunks  to-day, 

Papa,  his  new  valise. 
But  as  for  Little  Golden- Locks, 
She  only  packed  a  chatterbox. 

The  baggage-master  touched  a  cap 
With  shining  letters  decked, 

And  so  to  guard  from  all  mishap, 
The  bag  and  trunks  he  checked; 

But  never  stayed  for  Golden-Locks, 

Nor  counted  in  the  chatterbox. 

A  new  official  sauntered  soon 

In  slippers  down  the  cars, 
Who  softly  hummed  a  drowsy  tune. 

His  badge  was  wrought  in  stars. 
'Twas  Sleep  who  smiled  on  Golden-Locks, 
And  checked  at  last  the  chatterbox. 


POEMS  OF  LITTLE   PEOPLE  l8l 

AT  RECESS 

LITTLE  voices  all  out  of  chime, 

A  sudden  quarrel  that  mars  the  play. 

"Now,"  quoth  the  teacher,  "now's  our  time 
To  practise  that  Golden  Rule  we  say. " 

But  the  tiniest  wean  in  all  the  school 

Lays  a  rueful  face  on  the  teacher's  knee. 

"Isn't  there  any  Silver  Rule? 

That  Golden  Rule's  too  hard  for  me. " 

THE  MEASURING  ROD 

OVER  the  clover  the  fairies  their  gossamer 

carpets  had  spread, 
A-sprinkle  with  twinkle  of  diamonds  from 

their  dancing  slippers  shed, 
When  two  little  lads  from  the  city   went 

scampering  down  to  the  lake, 
Astonished  to  find  how  early  the  green  world 

comes  awake. 


1 82  FAIRY   GOLD 

The  finches  were  inches  of  glory,  the  tanagers 

burning  arrows, 
And  mellow  the  yellow-throat's  whistle;  the 

boys  took  them  all  for  sparrows, 
But  breathed  the  joy  of  the  morning,  and 

raced  with  bounds  and  springs, 
As  if  their  heels,  like  Mercury's,  were  finished 

off  with  wings. 

On  the  blue  of  the  lake  the  lilies,  their  white 

dreams  hardly  done, 
Were  cups  of  light.      "What  a  jolly  sight!" 

cried  Hal,  the  jurist's  son, 
But  the  heir  of  the  multi-millionaire  shook  a 

head  so  wise  and  blond : 
"They'd  look  nicer  put  in  vases  than  scattered 

on  a  pond." 

Then  Johnny  the  bonny  added,  with  a  calcu 
lating  air: 


POEMS  OF  LITTLE  PEOPLE  183 

"I  say,  I  wonder  how  far  it  is  to  those  lilies 

over  there." 
And  a  hidden  turtle  nudged  her  mate,  while, 

grave  as  an  eight-day  clock, 
Hal    answered    in    his    father's    tone:  "Not 

more  than  half  a  block." 


THE  BARBERRY  BABY 

DID  you  ever,  ever  chance  to  see 

A  barberry  muffled  in  snow? 
So  red  was  the  face  turned  up  to  me 

From  a  little  white  hood  I  know. 

So  glowing  red  was  each  round  cheek ! 

So  red  were  the  pouting  lips ! 
Would  the  words  be  frozen  they  tried  to 
speak? — 

"My  sled!     It  slips.     It  slips." 


1 84  FAIRY  GOLD 

I  have  heard  of  a  land  so  cold,  so  cold, 
That  words  would  stand  on  the  air 

Spelled  out  in  ice,  but  I'm  not  so  bold 
As  to  say  I  ever  was  there. 

But  these  rode  warm  in  a  wrathful  wail, 
For  not  all  the  wind  that  nips 

Could  sting  this  Mite  like  having  to  fail : 
" My  sled!     It  slips.     It  slips." 

You  could  never,  never  guess  it  true, 

Though  you  guessed  with  a  wit  and  a  will, 

What  the  Barberry  Baby  was  trying  to  do: 
She  was  trying  to  coast  up  hill. 

HOME  FROM  SCHOOL 

HOME  from  the  very  first  day  of  school 

Came  Wee- Wee,  aged  five, 
And  already  she'd  learned  enough  to  befool 

The  wisest  parents  alive. 


POEMS  OF  LITTLE  PEOPLE  185 

"Now  I  understand  every  things, 

Every  things  only  two. " 
They  prepared  to  smile  at  her  questionings, 

As  grown-ups  commonly  do. 

"  Where'd  God  find  the  stuff  to  begin  the  world, 
And  how  did  He  get  Himself  started? " 

The  father  his  fork  on  his  finger  twirled; 
The  mother's  mute  lips  were  parted. 

That  their  Baby,  whose  coo  was  but  just  made 
chatter, 

Should  pose  all  humankind 
By  asking  what  was  the  source  of  matter 

And  the  origin  of  mind ! 

REBECCA  AND  ABIGAIL 

When  the  Clans  of  the  Open  Hand  convene 

And  our  valors  are  rehearsed, 
Remember  the  year  eighteen-f our  teen 

And  our  proud  September  first. 


1 86  FAIRY  GOLD 

When  ye  write  the  roll  of  our  heroes  down, 

Oh,  be  not  the  deed  ignored 
Of  two  little  heroines,  bonny  and  brown, 

Whose  wit  was  sharp  as  a  sword. 

Careless  she  sat  in  the  lighthouse  door, 

Lass  of  the  laughing  lip, 
When  there  hove  in  sight  off  the  Scituate 
shore 

The  sails  of  a  British  ship. 
Rebecca  Bates  was  the  merriest  maid 

Between  Cape  Cod  and  Cape  Ann, 
But  her  quick  breath  sobbed,  for,  old  fears 
allayed, 

The  post  had  never  a  man. 

Over  her  shoulder  Abigail  peered 

With  the  soft  brown  eyes  of  their  race, 

And  the  sisters  watched  as  the  frigate  neared 
And  anchored  against  the  place 


POEMS  OF  LITTLE   PEOPLE  187 

Where  guards  had  been  stationed  till  yes- 
tere'en, 

But  now  had  no  garrison  more 
Than  the  keeper's  wife  with  her  gentle  mien, 

And  the  girls  in  the  lighthouse  door. 

The  work-worn  mother,  all  unaware 

Of  the  blow  about  to  fall, 
Dozed  in  her  faded  rocking-chair, 

While  the  kitten  teased  the  ball 
That  had  rolled  from  her  knitting,  and  not 
until 

Two  barges  in  stealthy  guise 
Put  off  from  the  ship,  had  the  girls  a  will 

To  waken  those  weary  eyes. 

Then  her  dream  was  pierced  by  the  shrilling  fife 
And  crushed  by  the  rolling  drum. 

She  swayed  to  her  feet :  "  O  Lord  of  Life, 
Is  the  hour  of  bloodshed  come?" 


1 88  FAIRY  GOLD 

White  she  sprang  to  the  empty  door 
And  saw  how  the  redcoats,  stayed 

By  that  martial  note,  had  poised  the  oar, 
Mistrusting  an  ambuscade. 

A  sullen  gun  from  the  ship  warned  back 

The  boats,  and  with  hurried  stroke 
They  traversed  again  that  foaming  track 

To  the  shelter  of  British  oak, 
While  Yankee  Doodle  rang  out  the  fife, 

And  the  drum  was  calling  to  arms 
As  if  mustering  men  for  desperate  strife 

From  a  hundred  rebel  farms. 

Murmured  the  goodwife:  "God  be  praised!" 
And  next:  "But  how  shall  I  feed 

This  patriot  army  Thou  hast  raised 
To  succor  us  in  our  need? " 

Then  around  the  corner,  as  large  as  life, 
She  saw  that  army  come, — 


POEMS  OF  LITTLE   PEOPLE  189 

Laughing  Rebecca  who  waved  the  fife, 
And  Abigail  with  the  drum. 


LITTLE  TOM  A  BECKET 

OUR  Christian  world  was  less  twelve  centuries 

old 

When  little  Tom  a  Becket  proudly  sat  in 
His  mother's  lap  and,  worth  his  weight  in 

gold, 

Prattled   to   her  in   Norman-French   and 
Latin. 

His  weight  in  gold?     "Nay,  dearer  yet,"  she 

said, 

Kissing  the  rosy  face,  "my  precious  sonny 
Is  worth  his  weight  in  good  white  wheaten 

bread, 

Pasties  and  cheese  and  saffron  cakes  and 
honey. " 


FAIRY  GOLD 

The  merchant  father  stroked  a  forked  beard 

And  stooped  long  rows  of  figures  to  examine, 

But  sweet  Dame  Becket  mused  on  cheeks 

endeared 

To  other  mothers, — cheeks  that  paled  for 
famine. 

So  every  birthday  would  she  weigh  her  lad 
Against  a  great  brass  scale  with  food  o'er- 

flowing, 
While  the  hungry  folk  of  London  crowded 

glad 

About  the  gates  and  blessed  the  boy  for 
growing. 

And  Tom  a  Becket,  in  his  school-gown  quaint, 
Would  give  the  loaves,  with  greeting  shy 
and  merry, 

Nor  ever  dreamed  he  was  to  be  a  saint 
And  have  a  glorious  shrine  in  Canterbury. 


Nonsense  Verses 


191 


HUDSON'S  CAT 

"This  night  our  cat  ranne  crying  from  one  side  of 
the  ship  to  the  other,  looking  overboord,  which  made 
us  to  wonder;  but  we  saw  nothing." — Juet's  Journal. 


WHAT  did  you  see,  0  pussy-cat-mew, 
Pet  of  the  Half -Moon's  turbulent  crew? 
Who  taught  them  mew-tiny  ?    Wasn't  it  you  ? 


Juet  kept  journal  of  storm  and  fog 

And  the  mermaid  that  set  them  all  agog, 

But  what  has  become  of  the  cat-a-log? 


Henry  Hudson,  the  master  sage, 
Writ  large  his  name  on  history's  page, 
But  you,  you  too,  were  a  purr-sonage. 

13  193 


194  FAIRY  GOLD 

Shall   the   tale   slight   you,   whose   tail   was 

a-quiver 

As  you  and  Hudson  sailed  up  the  river 
Made  only  his  by  Time  the  giver? 

Why  did  you  take  to  adventuring, 

Puss-illanimous  fireside  thing? 

What  was  the  cargo  you  hoped  to  bring? 

Did  you  dream  of  multitudinous  mice 
Running  about  the  Isles  of  Spice 
In  a  paradoxical  Paradise  ? 

Were  you  not  homesick  where  monsters  swam, 
Dolorous  dolphin  and  clamorous  clam, 
For  your  sunny  stoop  in  Amsterdam  ? 

Months  at  sea,  while  the  billows  roared, 
And  the  Milky  Way  not  a  cupful  poured; 
No  wonder  Tabby  looked  over-bored. 


NONSENSE  VERSES 

You  had  your  feelin's,  as  felines  go, 
Poor  little  puss.     What  scared  you  :o? 
O  stupid  sailors  that  didn't  know ! 

Was  it  a  dogfish  struck  the  spark 

From  your  sea-green  eyes  with  the  quaint 

remark 
That  you  were  sailing  upon  a  bark  ? 

Millions  of  happy  pussies  fall 

Into  oblivion;  still  you  call 

From  the  top  of  your  ancient  eater-wall, 

Call  on  the  centuries  to  concur 

In  praise  of  Tabby  the  Mariner, 

Who  discovered  the  Catskills,  named  for  her. 

DON'T  YOU  SEA? 

THE  day  was  hotter  than  words  can  tell, 
— So  hot  the  jelly-fish  wouldn't  jell. 


196  FAIRY  GOLD 

The  halibut  went  all  to  butter, 

And  the  cat-fish  had  only  force  to  utter 

A  faint  sea-mew, — ay,   though   some  have 

doubted, 
The  carp  he  carped  and  the  horn-pout  pouted. 

The  sardonic  sardine  had  his  sly  heart's  wish 
When  the  angel-fish  fought  with  the  Paradise- 
fish. 

'Twas  a  sight  gave  the  blue-fish  the  blues  to  see, 
But  the  seal  concealed  a  wicked  glee. 

The  day  it  went  from  bad  to  worse 

Till  the  pickerel  picked  the  purse-crab's  purse, 

And  that  crab  felt  crabbeder  yet,  no  doubt, 
Because  the  oyster  wouldn't  shell  out. 

The  sculpin  would  sculp,  but  hadn't  a  model, 
And   the  cod-fish   begged   for  something  to 
coddle, 


NONSENSE  VERSES 


But  to  both  the  dolphin  refused  its  doll, 

Till  the  whale  was  obliged  to  whale  them  all. 


FIRST  NIGHT  IN  THE  COUNTRY 

"You  call  this  a  lake?"  asked  the  sociable 

dog, 
Easing  his  watch  by  a  chat  with  the  frog. 

"I  call  it  my  bathing-tub. " 
And  the  frog,  a-squat  on  a  moist  cool  stone, 
Replied  politely  in  soothing  tone 

With  the  monosyllable:  "Blub." 

"You  call  this  a  lake?"  rattled   Kingfisher. 

"Pish! 
Can't  you  see  it  is  only  my  kettle  of  fish? " 

But  he  fell  asleep  in  his  shrub 
Before  the  frog,  with  an  accent  bland 
And  the  manner  of  those  who  understand, 

Had  finished  responding:  "Blub.  " 


FAIRY  GOLD 

' '  You  call  this  a  lake  ?     Look  out  if  you  do. 
WHIP-POOR-WILL  ! "  rang  themidnightthrough. 

"  Now  what  do  you  call  it,  bub  ? " 
The  challenge  cracked  like  a  sudden  whip, 
But  unconcerned  by  that  censorship 

The  frog  suggested:  "Blub. " 

"You  call  this  a  lake  ? "  scoffed  the  Lady  Moon. 
'  'Tis  my  silver  mirror,  you  green  buffoon.  " 

She  intended  this  for  a  snub, 
But  the  frog  only  rolled  his  goggle-eyes 
Up  toward  her  balcony  in  the  skies 

And  gallantly  answered:  "Blub." 

I  have  slept  through  bells  from  a  rocking  spire, 
Through  engine  whistles  and  cries  of  Fire, 

Through  toot  and  rub-a-dub-dub, 
But  I  could  not  sleep  through  the  dialogue 
Of  the  folk  of  the  dark  with  Wiseman  Frog, 

And  his  imperturbable  "Blub." 


NONSENSE   VERSES  199 

THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  LILY-PAD 

'TWAS  a  freckled  laddie  his  friends  call  Paddy 

Made  a  boat  of  a  lily-pad 
By  tying  a  string  to  the  flat  green  thing 

In  a  wise  little  way  he  had. 

A  bee  was  chosen  to  bee  the  boatswain, 
And  we  named  him  Captain  Kidd, 

For  he  shone  with  gold  like  a  pirate  bold 
Nor  told  where  his  hoard  was  hid. 

He  sharpened  his  dagger  with  glorious  swagger 
(He  was  after  the  swag,  you  know) 

And  our  blood  ran  cold  while  he  fiercely  trolled 
A  rumbe-rumbelow. 

Our  craft  was  a  ripper,  and  such  a  skipper 

Ought  to  have  made  it  hum, 
But  that  foolish  ship  would  double  and  dip 

Till  the  equilibrium 


200  FAIRY  GOLD 

Of  bumptious  Bumble  was  lost  in  a  tumble 

Indecorous  on  the  deck, 
While  Paddy  laughed  so,  he  let  the  string  go, 

And  the  Lily-Pad  went  to  wreck. 

But  safe  and  chipper  out  skipped  the  skipper 

To  the  sign  of  the  Clover  Ball, 
Where  after  a  glass  of  honey,  "  Alas!" 

He  buzzed,  "That  a  bee  should  fall 

To  a  naughty  career  in  a  nautical  sphere ! 

But  the  fault  it  wasn't  in  me, 
For  unless  I  forget  my  alphabet, 

A  B  must  go  to  C. " 

OUT  OF  FASHION 

THE  buds  are  putting  off  their  furs 

And  coming  out  in  silk, 
Pinks  and  pearls  and  lavenders, 

Laces  white  as  milk. 


NONSENSE  VERSES  2OI 

But  here  is  one  who  will — oh ! 

Whatever  gossips  say, 
Commit  the  peccadillo 

Of  having  her  own  way. 

'Tis  Pussy  cuddles  in  her  furs, 

Though  skies  are  bright  and  blue ; 

Basking  in  the  sun,  she  purrs 
As  happy  catkins  do. 

For  she  is  one  who  still,  oh! 

Though  all  the  wood  demurs, 
Wayward  Pussy  Willow, 

Keeps  cozy  in  her  furs. 

THE  OLD  MAN  OF  THE  MOUNTAINS 

SAID  the  Old  Man  of  the  Mountains 
To  his  white-capped  goblin- wife: 

"  Have  you  fed  the  glacier  fountains, 
Dame  Trouble-of-my-Lif e  ? 


202  FAIRY  GOLD 

Here  is  a  horn,  a  Silverhorn, 

A  Matterhorn  of  snow, 
Go  feed  the  glacier  fountains" — 

And  he  laughed  to  see  her  go. 

There  he  sits,  the  lazy  fellow, 

Whose  pipe  puffs  out  the  mist, 
The  King  of  the  Gnomes,  a  yellow, 

Hunch-shouldered  humorist, 
Chuckling  to  watch  his  old  dame  there, 

In  her  hood  and  mantle  dim, 
Keeping  the  Alps  in  good  repair, 

Doing  his  work  for  him. 


Poems  of  Fairies 


203 


SLUMBER  FAIRIES 

HUSH,  my  little  one !     Hush !    Lie  down. 

Mamma  will  sing, — 
Sing  of  a  boy  in  a  wee  white  gown, 
Sing  of  a  king  with  a  golden  crown, 
A  crown  of  curls  on  a  sweet,  small  head, 
And  a  throne  as  high  as  a  trundle-bed. 

Dear  little  king! 

Hush,  my  baby!  a  song  I  know 

Softer  than  all,— 
A  song  as  soft  as  the  falling  snow, 
And  I  will  sing  it  so  light  and  low, 
Baby  must  listen  and  lie  as  still 
As  the  snowflakes  lie  on  the  quiet  hill, 

Where  they  fall. 

Does  baby  know,  when  the  day  grows  late, 

Chilly  and  dim, 
205 


206  FAIRY  GOLD 

The  slumber  fairies,  who  stand  and  wait 
Out  in  the  lane  and  beyond  the  gate, 
Pass  over  the  lawn  and  open  the  door 
And  steal  across  the  nursery  floor, 
Looking  for  him  ? 

Such  tiny  fairies,  with  slippers  white 

Over  their  feet. 

Their  cloaks  are  gray  as  the  early  night, 
But  their  caps  are  lit  with  a  silver  light, 
As  if  a  moonbeam  were  caught,  perhaps, 
And  cut  up  small  into  fairy  caps 

Dainty  and  neat. 

Up  the  side  of  the  trundle-bed 

Softly  they  go, 

And  over  the  pillow  with  gentle  tread 
They  come  to  the  golden  baby-head. 
Under  his  lashes  he  tries  to  peep, 
But  before  he  knows,  he  is  fast  asleep. 

Isn't  it  so? 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  2O/ 

For  they   bind  the  baby  with  fairy  charms 

Wondrous  to  tell. 

They  loose  the  clasp  of  the  dimpled  arms, 
And  smooth  his  forehead  with  soft,   small 

palms, 

And  draw  their  cloaks  o'er  his  drowsy  ears, 
Till  a  fairy  music  is  all  he  hears, 

Pleasing  him  well. 

They  shade  his  eyes  with  a  little  dream. 

Where  did  it  grow? 

It  grew  by  the  side  of  the  fairy  stream, 
Where  baby  wandereth  now,  I  deem, 
With  the  slumber-fairies  to  guide  his  feet. 
Good-night,  dear  laddie !  Your  rest  be  sweet ! 

Mamma  must  go. 

FAIRY'S  LULLABY 

IN  lily  cup  I'll  nest  me, 

From  fairy  dance  to  rest  me, 


208  FAIRY  GOLD 

For  the  silver  moon 
Dips  low,  and  soon 
Would  the  goblins  swart  molest  me. 

But  never  a  gnome  will  mock  me, 
Nor  peering  toad-face  shock  me, 

While  the  wind-elf  blithe 

Stands  on  tiptoe  lithe 
By  the  lily's  stem  to  rock  me; 

And  the  star-sprites  lean  above  me, 
For  all  the  star-sprites  love  me; 

In  circle  fair 

Each  holds  in  air 
His  small  gold  torch  above  me. 

Come,  soft-winged  Sleep,  and  kiss  me, 
For  the  dream-land  fairies  miss  me, 

Till  thy  sweet,  cool  lips 

Part  the  folded  tips 
Of  my  lily-couch  to  kiss  me. 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  2CK) 

But  when  thy  spells  unbind  me 
The  sunbeams  shall  not  find  me, 

And  my  dreamy  nest 

Be  only  guessed 
By  the  fragrance  left  behind  me. 


FAIRY  RIP  VAN  WINKLE 

His  acorn  cradle  with  fern  and  moss 

Elf  mamma  had  covered  over, 
And  then  had  forgotten  the  path  across 

The  blossoming  field  of  clover. 
For  she  was  the  wildest  of  all  wee  things, 
And    loved    to    dance    in    the    moonlight 

rings, 

Or  steal  her  a  ride  on  butterfly  wings, — 
A  genuine  gypsy  rover! 
Streams  flow, 
Buds  blow, 


2IO  FAIRY  GOLD 

Stars  peep  out  and  twinkle. 

Still  deep 

Thy  sleep, 
Fairy  Rip  van  Winkle ! 

But   he   woke   one   day   and   with    drowsy 

eyes 

Smiled  into  a  dewy  bubble 
On  his  cradle  edge;  then  in  swift  surprise 

Cried  out  in  a  voice  of  trouble : 
"O  mamma,  mamma,  I  don't  look  right, 
My  cobweb  nightie  has  grown  so  tight ; 
My  buttercup  curls  are  daisy  white; 
And  over  my  eyebrows  double 
What's  this 
Cross-criss 

Funny  little  wrinkle?" 
Long  gazed, 
Amazed, 
Fairy  Rip  van  Winkle. 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  211 

For  his  nap  in  the  acorn  had  lasted  till 

A  new  oak  forest  had  sprouted, 
And  the  elves  had  vanished  from  mead  and  rill, 

By  the  schoolbook  army  routed. 
And  the  ancient  baby,  whose  eyes  could  see 
Never  a  toadstool  spread  for  tea, 
Nor  lullaby-nurse  of  a  honey-bee, 
Put  up  his  lip  and  pouted. 
But  no 
Tiptoe 

Lily  bells  went  tinkle. 
Bye-bye  ! 
Don't  cry, 
Fairy  Rip  van  Winkle  I 

THE  TROLL 

HE  was  only  an  ugly  Troll, 

And  an  ugly  Troll  was  he; 
His  eyes  were  saucers,  and  his  guffaw,  sirs, 

Would  scare  you  into  the  sea. 


212  FAIRY  GOLD 

Oh,  droll  to  be  a  Troll, 

With  green  pine-needle  hair, 
And  hoards  of  jewel  stacked  up  like  fuel 

In  the  hill  of  Don't-Know-Where. 

He  was  only  a  stupid  Troll, 

As  all  the  Troll-folk  be, 
Sailing  a-straddle,  his  nose  for  a  paddle, 

On  a  solid  gold  settee. 

Oh,  droll  to  be  a  Troll, 

And  never  so  much  as  mind 
Gravitation  or  botheration 

Or  the  witch  that  rides  the  wind. 

But  he  was  a  merry  Troll, 

With  a  harp  against  his  knee, 
And  when  he  played  it,  all  things  obeyed  it, 

A-capering  for  glee. 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  213 

Oh,  droll  to  be  a  Troll, 

A  nd  sail  and  sail  and  sail 
Over  your  troubles  like  dancing  bubbles 

To  your  home  in  a  fairy-tale. 

BABY  HAZEL'S  VOYAGE 

KING  NOD,   King  Nod,  the  drowsy  god,  is 

such  an  idle  fellow, 
He  sleeps  away  the  livelong  day,  while  yet 

the  sun  is  yellow; 
But  when  the  sinking  sun  is  red  and  robin's 

song  is  failing, 
'Tis  time  for  him  to  rub  his  dim  old  eyes  and 

go  a-sailing. 

His  moonshine  boat  is  soon  afloat;  a  glow 
worm  serves  for  pilot ; 

On  silver  oars  they  graze  the  shores  of  many 
a  starry  islet; 


214  FAIRY  GOLD 

In  silver  sails  they  catch  the  winds,  and  down 

the  cloudy  billows 
Full  fast  they  ride  before  the  tide  to  Baby 

Hazel's  pillows. 

"Ahoy,  sweet  maid!      Now  art  afraid,  with 

Old  King  Nod  for  skipper, 
To  sail  the  deep  and  drink  sweet  sleep  from 

yonder  golden  dipper? 
Aboard,  aboard,  my  dainty  lass!  aboard  my 

silver  vessel ! 
And  thou  shalt  see,  in  dream-land  tree,  the 

little  dream-birds  nestle. ' ' 

She  bowed — ah  me! — her  rosy  knee,  and 
kissed  the  old  king's  scepter. 

Unto  his  breast  the  child  he  pressed  and  down 
the  darkness  swept  her. 

Oh,  frail  the  skiff,  the  silver  skiff!  O  Hazel 
Eyes,  take  warning! 


POEMS  OF   FAIRIES  215 

On  Sunrise  Reef  'twill  come  to  grief.     Good 
night,  good-night — good -morning  ! 

SONNY'S  BIRTHDAY 

BONNY,  my  Bonny,  sleeps  well  to-night. 

(Dear  is  sleep  when  the  day  is  done.) 
Soon  shall  the  eastern  skies  be  bright, 

And  a  birthday  dawn  with  the  dawning  sun. 

How  many  years  has  my  Bonny  seen? 

How  many  years  since  she  strayed  from 

Heaven  ? 
Seven  times  since  have  the  woods  grown  green, 

And  the  snows  have  fallen  seasons  seven. 

Lies  the  lassie  in  artless  grace, 
Soft  hair  curling  in  golden  rings, 

Fair  the  light  on  her  sleeping  face 

As  shed  from  an  angel's  shielding  wings. 


2l6  FAIRY  GOLD 

Bonny  smiles  in  her  dream's  delight, 

(Blithe  are  dreams  when  the  heart  is  pure), 

Till  the  rosy  dimples  come  to  sight, 
Lost  so  long  in  the  cheek  demure. 


What  do  the  dreaming  eyes  behold? 

Lend  us  your  spectacles,  Old  King  Nod. 
Just  one  peep  through  the  rims  of  gold. 

Bless  my  buttons !     But  this  is  odd. 

Is  it  a  shaft  of  the  yellow  moon, 
Slanting  in  at  the  window-glass, 

Or  a  sheeny  road,  where  the  twinkling  shoon 
Of  gossamer-skirted  fairies  pass  ? 

Martial  music  salutes  the  ear. 

(Sweet  is  the  beat  of  elfin  drums), 
And  seven  small  knights  come  riding  here 

Out  of  the  Land  of  Sugarplums. 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  217 

Bonny  laughs  in  her  childish  dream. 

Each  little  knight  on  a  candy  steed 
In  haughty  helm  of  chocolate  cream 

O'er  the  moonbeam  rides  with  speed. 

Ho,  Little  Knights  in  frosted  mail, 

Luck  to  the  cinnamon  swords  you  wield ! 

Never  may  hostile  lance  prevail 
Against  the  pride  of  peppermint  shield! 

Fast  they  ride  down  the  moonlight  ray, 
(Smooth  is  the  road  that  leads  to  love), 

Wee  knights  seven,  gallant  and  gay, 
With  a  popcorn  standard  borne  above. 

With  melting  hearts  on  their  quest  they  ride, 
Drawing  the  rein  at  the  ringlets  sunny. 

* '  Ah ! ' '  cries  one,  ' '  for  so  sweet  a  bride 

Would  I  shedmy  knightly  blood  like  honey." 


2l8  FAIRY  GOLD 

Yet  they  turn  their  candy  steeds  and  sigh. 

Was  ever  a  dream  so  queer  as  this  ? 
And  each  little  knight,  as  he  waves  good-bye, 

Drops  on  the  pillow  a  sugar  kiss. 


Bonny  wakes  with  the  blushing  east, 
(Glad  is  waking  when  sleep  was  kind), 

But  never  a  knight  to  her  birthday  feast 
From  Sugarplum  Land  has  stayed  behind. 

Yet  far  though  the  little  sweethearts  bide 
In  Caramel  Castle  and  sigh  their  fill, 

On  Bonny's  pillow  at  morningtide 
The  candy  kisses  are  lying  still, 

As  the  wee  knights  left  them  yestere'en, 

A  dainty  record  in  kisses  seven 
Of  the  years  that  my  Bonny's  eyes  have  seen, 

Happy  years  since  she  strayed  from  Heaven. 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES 

THE  WISHING-CAP 

A  LITTLE  maid  stole  to  a  moonlight  knoll, 

In  the  fairy  ring  to  tread; 
But  the  dancing  fays  had  gone  their  ways 

And  a  gnome  was  there  instead. 

"Brown  gnome,  please  lend  me  your  wishing- 

cap." 

He  snatched  off  his  small,  green  hood 
And  tossed  it  to  her.     "Many  thanks,  kind 

sir; 
You  are  certainly  very  good. 

"Seven     times     one!    And     what    shall    I 

wish?" 

The  gnome  sat  down  on  a  thistle, 
With  his  peaked  red  shoon  pointed  up  to  the 

moon, 
And  practiced  an  elfin  whistle. 


220  FAIRY  GOLD 

' '  I  wish  and  I  wish  and  I  wish  and  I  wish 

That  you  were  as  rich  as  I, 
Little  brown  gnome,  for  I've  pennies  at  home, 

And  I  don't  know  what  to  buy. 

"  I  wish  and  I  wish  and  I  wish  and  I  wish 
My  heart  were  a  wild-rose  brier, 

Where  the  bell-voiced  veery  when  day  grows 

weary, 
Leads  off  the  vesper  choir. 

"  I  wish  my  heart  were  a  forest  brook 
A-ripple  with  sunshiny  laughter, 

Where  to  quench  their  thirst  shy  deer  come 

first 
And  the  pattering  rabbits  after. 

* '  I  wish  my  heart  were  a  golden  star 

That  guides  over  creamy  foam 
The  shimmering  sails  through  whistling  gales 

To  the  harbor  lights  of  home. 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  221 

"I  wish  my  heart  were  a  blade  of  grass, 

Where  Katydids  all  a-row 
Tilt  in  the  sun,  singing  high  deeds  done 

Of  Katydids  long  ago. 

"  I  wish  my  heart  were  a  rosy  cloud 

On  the  sunset  edge  of  even, 
That  tenderly  bears  the  children's  prayers 

Through  the  open  doors  of  Heaven. 

"  I  wish  my  heart  were  as  large,  as  large, 

As  large  as  the  dome-like  skies, 
There's  so  much  to  love,  from  God  above 

To  the  little  gossamer  flies. " 

Then  the  lassie  gave  back  the  small  green 
hood 

And  curtsied  to  the  gnome, 
And  the  lilies  sweet  caressed  her  feet, 

As  the  glow-worms  lit  her  home. 


222  FAIRY  GOLD 

The  gnome  dived  under  the  hard,  gray  rocks 
To  the  land  where  the  gnome-folk  dwell ; 

A  land  of  gold  and  jewels  untold, 
Hard  by  the  gates  of  hell. 

But  while  he  sate  in  his  wishing-cap 
On  the  throne  in  his  diamond  castle, 

Squeaked  his  wee  brown  wife,  in  a  voice  like  a 

fife: 
"Why !  there's  a  tear  on  the  tassel ! " 

And  never  a  pearl  rom  the  Indian  seas, 

Nor  emerald  cold  and  clear, 
Shed  such  a  light  through  those  caves  of  night 

As  the  little  gnome-king's  tear. 

THE  LITTLE  KNIGHT  IN  GREEN 

WHAT  fragrant-footed  comer 
Is  stepping  o'er  my  head? 

Behold  my  Queen,  the  Summer, 
Who  deems  her  warriors  dead ! 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  223 

Now  rise,  ye  knights  of  many  fights, 
From  out  your  sleep  profound! 

Make  sharp  your  spears,  my  gallant  peers, 
And  prick  the  frozen  ground ! 

Before  the  White  Host  harm  her, 

We'll  hurry  to  her  aid. 
We'll  don  our  elfin  armor, 

And  every  tiny  blade 
Shall  bear  atop  a  dewy  drop, 

The  lifeblood  of  the  Frost, 
Till  from  their  King  the  order  ring : 

"Fall  back!  the  day  is  lost!" 

Now  shame  to  knighthood,  brothers  I 

Must  Summer  plead  in  vain  ? 
And  shall  I  wait  till  others 

My  crown  of  sunshine  gain? 
Alone  this  day  I'll  dare  the  fray, 

Alone  the  victory  win. 


224  FAIRY  GOLD 

In  me  my  Queen  shall  find,  I  ween, 
A  sturdy  paladin. 

To  battle,  ho !  King  Winter 

Hath  rushed  on  me  apace. 
My  fragile  weapons  splinter 

Beneath  his  icy  mace. 
I  stagger  back.     I  yield —  alack ! 

I  fall.     My  senses  pass. 
Woe  worth  the  chance  for  doughtiest  lance 

Of  all  the  House  of  Grass ! 

Last  hope  my  heart  gives  over. 

But  hark !  a  shout  of  cheer ! 
Don  Daisy  and  Count  Clover, 

Sir  Buttercup  are  here. 
Behold!  behold!  with  shield  of  gold 

Prince  Dandelion  comes. 
Lord  Bumblebee  beats  valiantly 

His  rolling  battle-drums. 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  225 

My  brothers  quit  their  slumbers 

And  lead  the  van  of  war. 
Before  our  swelling  numbers 

The  foes  are  driven  far. 
The  day's  our  own;  but  overthrown, 

A  little  knight  in  green, 
I  kiss  her  feet  and  deem  it  sweet 

To  perish  for  my  Queen. 


OUR  FAMILY  CREST 

'Tis  I  must  tell  my  story  quick  as  ever  a 

tongue  can  spin, 
Because  you  childer  grow  so  tall  that,  if  I 

don't  begin, 
The  brown  heads  and  the  yellow  heads  will  all 

have  shot  too  high 
To  see  between  the  daisy-stems  what  met  the 

laughing  eye 
is 


226  FAIRY  GOLD 

Of  our  Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  - 
Grand-mama. 

Here's   Willie   asks  if  mermaids  were   ever 

caught  and  canned, 
And    Dorothy's   geography   is   searched   for 

fairyland, 
And,  faith!  the  lass  Elizabeth  can  talk  of 

myths  as  glib 
As  if — bad  manners  to  her! — she  mistrusted 

of  a  fib 
Her  Great-Great-Great  -Great-Great-Great 

Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Grand  - 

mama. 

Now  whist !  and  let  me  tell  you  how  long  and 

long  ago, 
In  the  blessed  isle  of  Erin,  where  songs  and 

stories  blow 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  22J 

On  all  the  winds,  and  tangle  with  the  rushes 
of  the  thatch, 

Or  drop  in  dew  that  sweetens  the  smallest 

praty-patch, 

Lived  our  Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  - 
Grand-mama. 


A  jewel  of  a  tub  she  had,  the  color  of  Queen's 
weather, 

And  the  bits  of  duds  she  soused  in  it  went 
white  as  seagull  feather, 

And  when  she  spread  them  on  the  furze,  the 
only  gold  that  grew 

About  her  clay-walled  cabin,  the  sun  peeped 

out  to  view 

Our  Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Grand  - 
mama. 


228  FAIRY  GOLD 

Oh,  then  she  dried  her  shapely  hands  upon  her 
scarlet  skirt, 

And  emptied  out  the  shining  suds  and  gave 
the  broom  a  flirt 

Across  that  grand  mud  floor  of  hers  and  took  a 
drop  of  tea 

Or  taste  of  oatmeal  stirabout,  so  well-to-do 

was  she, 

Our  Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Grand  - 
mama. 

But  heart  alive!  one  Monday  when,  as  many 

a  time  before, 
She  was  emptying  her  tilted  tub  from  her 

elegant  front  door, 
Out  from  under  the  doorstone  popped  a  tiny 

man  in  green 
And  bowed  as  low  as  he  ever  bowed  in  the 

court  of  the  fairy  queen 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  22Q 

To  our  Great-  Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  - 
Grand-mama. 

He  bowed  so  low  that  his  wee  green  cap  it 
brushed  his  wee  green  shoon, 

And  nary  a  bell  on  his  wee  green  suit  but 
tinkled  a  dancing  tune, 

And  when  he  had  finished  his  wee  green  bow, 
as  easy  as  you  please 

He  spoke  in  a  voice  as  soft  as  the  hum  of  the 

summer  bumble-bees, 

To  our  Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  - 
Grand-mama. 

"Now  don't  ye  go  frettin'  yersel',"  he  said, 

"for  it's  long  sorry  I'd  be 
To  cast  a  cloud  on  the  bluest  eyes  betwixt  the 

bog  and  the  sea ; 


230  FAIRY  GOLD 

But  my  little  green  house  is  under  this  stone, 
and  your  suds  —  'tis  the  wife  that 
cares — 

They  throuble  our  little  green  carpet,  ma'am, 

and  all  our  little  green  chairs.  " 
O    our     Great-  Great-  Great-  Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -Great- 
Grandmama ! 

"Wirra,  wirra!" — she  curtsied  twice  to  that 
decent  fairyman — 

"Och,  it's  a  heart-scald  for  to  hear,  but  if 
your  worship  can 

Be  overlookin'  the  past,  bedad,  'tis  mesel' 
that  forivermore 

Will  be  emptyin'  out  me  ould  blue  tub — plaze 
the  saints! — at  me  bit  back  door," 
Said  our  Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great-  Great  -  Great  -Great- 
Grandmama. 


POEMS  OF  FAIRIES  23! 

Now  when  she  mentioned  the  holy  saints* 
and  a  tactless  thing  was  that, 

The  little  green  fairy  faded  out,  all  but  his 
plumy  hat, 

Which  took  itself  off  to  her  most  polite,  and 
since  that  queer  event 

We  empty  our  washtubs  at  the  back  fo  proof 

of  high  descent 

From  our  Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -Great- 
Grandmama. 

Her  thatch  of  rushes  belike  it  leaked,  but  her 

cabin  was  proud  as  any, 
There  on  the  borders  of  fairyland,  where  joy 

is  bought  for  a  penny, 
And  ever  she  set  a  sup  of  the  cream  for  her 

little  green  neighbors,  who 
Would  dance  at  night  in  her  turf-fire  light 

till  the  heart  went  dancing  too 


232  FAIRY  GOLD 

In  our  Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -Great- 
Grandmama. 

So  I  rise  to  propose  for  our  family  crest  a  wash- 
tub,  azure,  crowned 

With  a  fairy,  vert;  and  since  our  race  em 
braces,  the  world  around, 

All  who  empty  their  tubs  at  their  own  back 
doors  and  gladden  their  toil  with 
dreams, 

Remember  that  he  who  scorns  the  least  of  that 

kinship  disesteems 

Our  Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great  -  Great  -  Great  -  Great  -Grand- 
mama. 


3>A.TE 


AN    INITIM-.  ^f  „ 


»«(OV 


•**- 


Batei,K.L.  953 

Fairy  gold. 


UNWERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


